Foolish For You
by 0-mirage-0
Summary: Harboring a crush is easy, finding a healthy way to pursue it is not. A realistic RoyxEd story, with Roy's desk cluttered with serial murders, and Ed a compulsive liar struggling to juggle his dangerous commitments. Learning to like yourself is scary, but allowing others to love you, will bring you to your knees. [Action/Suspense/Graphic Scenes] Fully Completed – New Ch Every Week!
1. Pique My Curiosity

Foolish For You  
Chapter One  
_Pique My Curiosity_

- mirage -

Sitting at his mahogany desk, Mustang lifted a hand to his temple and began massaging with frustration, before sighing out, "Tell me, and be honest." He dropped his hand back to his accustomed throne, and lifted his gaze to Alphonse's youthful face. "Are you going to approach enemies on our battle field with that...lost puppy dog expression Alphonse?"

Alphonse's tender seventeen, almost eighteen year old, appearance became slightly worse. Below the boy's short-cropped blonde hair, and between his empathetic golden eyes, a tiny crease appeared.

"Because if you are," Mustang continued. "I will move you to the front lines, where you can head outward into No Man's Land, and politely ask our enemy to return home." Mustang leaned back in his chair. It gave a protesting squeak but his lumbar was loudly in favor. "I am certain they'll do so, once they see your convincing face."

Alphonse was quiet with uncertainty. The colonel seemed annoyed, but not too annoyed. "I am sorry sir," Alphonse said. He tightened his stance, clutching his State Alchemist watch. In his mind he tried to envision the word bastard in all capitals written across Mustang's chest where Ed said it belonged, but he couldn't get it to fit. "I—I'll try to make, meaner expressions from here on out."

Mustang grumbled a composed baritone chuckle, and then cleared his throat in tardy attempt to hide it politely. He gave his gloved hand an absent toss, as if batting away a fly, and it moved the topic along. "Understood, do you feel confident with your place here, as a soldier? Your test scores were very good." _Alphonse's state test scores were very very good. _"With your mission?" Mustang gestured to the manila folder waiting on his desk.

"It's my first one sir."

"How is your confidence?"

"I feel confident in myself so...yes Colonel." Alphonse took the folder with a smile.

Mustang gave another sigh, something between normal fatigue and relief. "You are so much easier to get along with than your brother." A faint smile of pride lifted the corner of Alphonse's mouth, but he made no comment. "Dismissed," Mustang said, giving a short departing nod. Alphonse left trotting for the door wearing Amestris's traditional military blues below a white dress shirt. Hand on the doorknob Mustang called in afterthought, "Alphonse?" and the boy stopped and looked back. "By the way, where is your brother?" Suddenly, Mustang realized he hadn't seen or heard the Fullmetal Alchemist in several days.

"Out trying to collect information on the new Marsisisms science," Alphonse said, breaking wide innocent smile. "I heard you wouldn't tell him anything."

"You heard right," Mustang said angrily. "I'll look forward to your report."

Alphonse departed happily, and waved to Hawkeye as she entered. She looked alert in the morning hours. The sun which shown through Mustang's back window had not yet reached the floor, pressing the release of a late-day coffee break back yet a few more hours.

"Sir, your morning meeting tomorrow has been cancelled," Hawkeye reported.

Mustang smiled. "Really."

"And I have the Walker files for you." She extended a fat folder.

Mustang's smile widened. He took the folder and sat up. "Sometimes I think someone up there likes me Hawkeye," Mustang said, flipping through the wealth of pages. "Our latest information and possible contact in the West, the Marsisis cases, these are classified, yes?"

"Of course."

"Good, see to it all document access travels through me." Mustang shut the folder and stood up. "I won't have nosy alchemists pushing their noses where they don't go." He scooped the folder up and tucked it under his arm. "I am taking this home and I am stopping my progress at five sharp. I order you to do the same." He gave her a wink as he skirted his desk, and she released an exhale in complaint.

Sounding skeptical Hawkeye asked, "But you are going to work on that until five, right sir?" Mustang left the office keeping his smile and his silence. "Right sir!" she called after him. He lifted a hand in a stationary wave and departed without answering._ It was always best to leave these sorts of things a mystery. _

It was just blossoming into spring and the air smelled of sweet buds and damp soil. It had been raining periodically throughout the day, mixing sudden bursts of downfall with bursts of sunshine. Mustang rolled the car windows down, opened the front of his uniform, tossed his badge aside, and hit the road going eighteen above the speed limit. Home was not far away, nor was home overly fancy. A two level colonial, owned by the military, had been his off-shift station since he'd been in Central. It was an older house, and carried style and tradition in the ways of fatter trim and firmer doors than currently on the market. Mustang had the inside furnished well, but with nothing so lavish or so spectacular his interior would be well remembered by his guests, thank the military budget.

With a heavy foot and the back parking sticker of a Colonel, home was only fifteen minutes away at his speed. He arrived, kicked off his boots, put on some tea, and tossed his folder down on his desk. The week had been littered with meetings, and with nothing today and nothing tomorrow morning, he was getting out of the office for eight hours. This afternoon's dessert was Bach, and he started with his red pen after only twenty minuets of shirking. The Lieutenant would be so proud.

At five on the dot Mustang tossed his red pen aside, sorted the wealth of field notes, crime photos, and witness statements, back into order, and went in search of food. It was a luxury he did not readily have on hand, because he did not readily grocery shop. In fact he despised the solo chore of weaving travel through an edible maze, struggling to guess at his future cravings, so pickings were slim.

At ten of six with no meal in sight, the phone began ringing and Mustang snatched it. Head still in the pantry, he gave a customary, "Hello," and was met with the sound of a long and frustrated exhale. He righted himself from the near empty shelf of condiments, and while staring at a jar of pickles, repeated, "Hello?"

"Are," the caller said, voice hard to identify. "Are you home?"

"Identify yourself." _He had answered his home number, hadn't he?_

"I thought you dislodged the stick after five Colonel."

With unexpected surprise the caller became familiar. "Fullmetal?"

"Sounds like it's still firmly up there."

"What are you calling me for?" Mustang asked, laying a hand on his growling stomach. "I am a very busy man Fullmetal." Ed groaned. "And I am doing important things right now."

"Do you know where Lankings is?" Ed asked, becoming miserable.

"Fullmetal."

"It's a simple geological question," Ed snapped, becoming angry. "You either do, or you don't."

"Yes, I know where it is," Mustang said. "What does that have to do with anything?" He shut the pantry door and moved to the near empty refrigerator.

"Come pick me up."

Mustang opened the refrigerator door and stalled. "What?" He glanced back to the jar of pickles.

"You heard me!" Ed snapped, what chivalry there was disappearing rapidly. "You losing your hearing in your old age? Come pick me up, I said!" The phone moved, and scuffle sounds were quick as Ed turned it around, and hung it up in a loud clang to the self-muttered, "What a freaking dick head."

Mustang was left standing in his kitchen debating whether or not he should consider the call serious. He phoned Headquarters, retrieved the number for the Elric barrack dorm and called. There was no answer and so he wandered upstairs, changed into some black slacks and a comfortable dress shirt, and left.

Lankings was a downtown street twenty five minutes away, seventeen when speeding, and located in what most soldiers poetically called, Shit-ral. It was a long straight artery of underfunded cracked and sinking sidewalks, with buildings in worse shape. The zoning was industrial, but business had moved out long ago. As Amestris's most influential and impacting metropolis, Central's fine establishments and military dominance still managed to cradled the small fifteen block decay of the old and unused. Driving slowly, Mustang started at the top and worked his way down watching for a red beckon among the damp faded storefronts and graffiti.

It came, ten minutes up, on an old bus stop bench before a boarded up liquor shop, and high dilapidated fencing closing off the alley and yard to what appeared to have once been an office building. With the day's rain everything was darker in color, and scattered puddles filled the worn and slumped areas of concrete.

Ed's blood-red coat was visible below a large opened newspaper, and Mustang pulled to the curb and rolled down the window with a dull glare. C_hauffeur were we now?_

"This might have been a reasonable request if we were still twelve," Mustang said, tone entirely flat. "Cabs too expensive for State Alchemists these days?"

Ed shot up like a bullet, and angrily threw the newspaper aside. He ignored the response verbally, but he ripped the car door open and collapsed into the passenger side with obvious irritation.

Ed slammed the door behind him and said, "Drive please."

Mustang swept his eyes over Ed's nineteen year old body with immediate disgust. More than just a single state alchemist had entered the car, and the first offensive variable was water. "You're wet!" Mustang said, indicating Ed's soaking body with a waving hand of outrage.

"It rained," Ed said, bangs in his face hiding his expression.

"You're wet in my car!" _This was the real problem._

"Again, it rained." Ed kept his face averted.

Mustang turned back to the steering wheel with a scowl, feeling the familiar office frustration that came when Ed ritually repeated facts his little adolescent scientist-brain did not want to step around. Mustang began to drive the same way he often laid one report down and picked up another. He had learned to choose his battles with Fullmetal because most of everything was a battle, and quite simply, there was no prize to be won for all the anguish spent. Ed was open combat, and the enemy line was never taken, and never moved.

Then the second variable appeared in a soft kerosene scent, and Mustang closed his eyes with brief agitation, and said, "You smell funny."

Ed was slouched in his seat, and gave a small uncomfortable shift of his shoulders. Wet, his bangs were long golden censors on his profile, blocking out the eyes and most of the frowning mouth. Unsure what to say, Ed floundered for a moment, before finding sarcasm and landing a quick, "Excuse me."

"What is it?" Mustang asked, glancing over. "You smell flammable." _If it was one thing he had a knack for smelling, it was things that would burn. _"You are in the car of the Flame Alchemist," he teased, flashing a wry smile in Ed's direction, but Ed didn't respond. He didn't move, and suddenly it was very apparent there was a reason. "Why are you hiding your face?" Mustang demanded, dropping to a tone of accusation.

"I am not hiding anything."

"Fullmetal."

"Roy Mustang."

Mustang hit the brakes, jerking them to a graceless halt in the middle of the empty road. The force caused him to lean forward, and Ed's automail hand shot out and braced against the dash board, before he floored into anger.

"You can't just stop here! This is the middle of the road Mustang!" Ed yelled, gesturing adamantly to the open lanes surrounding them. "What the heck is this crap! Haven't you learned how to drive in the centuries you've been out here kicking up dust!" Ed's automail hand gave the dashboard a quick double tap, signaling a take-off, but Mustang ignored it. He remained silent, and let the jokes sail past. Ed was not good at being ignored, and even worse at winning this game. It was their most frequent past time, and came when Mustang laid down a report, but deliberately did not pick up the next.

Sometimes, as Roy required it, young alchemists were forced to discuss things they did not want to.

"Roy, drive!" Ed yelled.

"Did I ask you a question?"

"We're idling in an open road! You're going to get a ticket. You're going to be towed." Ed was taking a new approach. "I am not paying for any of that."

"And when I ask a question…"

"All right!" Ed exclaimed. "Fine! I recede, hit the gas!" Mustang resumed driving. "Take me home please."

"What is the address? And why am I driving you home?"

Ed rattled off the generic military address and added, "I needed a ride."

"Why didn't you call a cab?" Ed didn't answer. "Why didn't you call your brother?"

"He didn't answer the phone."

_Okay, two of three, so far so good. _"Why are you hiding your face?"

"I am modest."

Mustang hit the brakes and stopped them. The car behind them imitated, brakes squealing, and then swung into the open right lane honking and flipping them off.

Ed watched this with immense displeasure, and muttered, "Are you freaking kidding."

Mustang had made it clear to Ed, silence required submission, and Ed had learned this on the third day of the second week he wore his alchemist chain. On that day, when Ed was politely silent to avoid a question, Roy let the silence continue for twenty minutes. When Ed tried to sit, or speak further, Mustang stopped him. So Ed learned he was grounded if he refused direction, and twelve and tired, gave up after forty-five minutes of standing stationary before Mustang's desk, and answered.

Mustang was not happy with slow obedience, and handed Ed's neat report back and ordered it be rewritten. When Ed demanded to know why, Roy said it looked sloppy. He admitted his eyes had likely grown tired over the last forty-five minutes, and the report may not be sloppy, but he preferred to err on the side of caution.

That was the last day Ed tested the waters with his silence, and with the car idling, Ed reluctantly turned to Mustang and swiped his bangs back from his face with a wet gloved hand. He believed the colonel would keep them in the middle of an active lane until satisfied, but that threat did not make submission any friendlier.

Ed's look was not kind. It was hostile, and rude with disgust, but Mustang didn't notice the tense brow, and exaggerated frown. All he saw was Ed's swollen red jaw, and bloody lip.

"What happened?" Mustang asked, resuming their drive.

"I was jumped."

This sounded asinine, and sarcastically Mustang said, "Well, most soldiers avoid this section because the unruly civilians, although not trained in the ways of military combat, are known to take on skilled state alchemists and win."

Ed gave his nose a heavy wipe, and it smeared a dab of blood across his glove. "You don't have to be a dick about it," Ed said. "I am not going to hit a civilian with a metal arm. I just needed a ride." Ed gave Mustang an irritable glance seeking a truce. "Do you mind if we stop at a gas station or something? I want to wash my face."

"Why would anyone jump you?"

"How should I know!" Ed tipped his head back before shifting his weight with a deep wince.

"You're not even carrying anything," Mustang said, beginning to smile. Ed was glaring at the car ceiling severely annoyed. "Did they have a thing for red coats?" Mustang laughed softly at his own joke.

"_Did they have a thing for red coats_," Ed mocked in a bitterly silly voice. Ed lifted a hand to his automail shoulder and began rubbing it. "Aren't you just hysterical." Mustang continued his quiet laugh. "If I knew why, I would have defended myself better." Mustang hit the blinker as the first well-kept gas station came into view. Shit-ral was disappearing into a rear view skyline of decrepit gray concrete and steel, and the downtown industrial section was opening.

When they parked Ed climbed out after scrubbing at his face, and Mustang followed. The entrance door jingled, and the shop was small with a few snack aisles and one cashier. Ed left in route to the easily identified men's room, and Mustang bought a single packaged muffin and coffee to hold him over._ Dinner wasn't going to magically appear at his place unfortunately._

After adding cream and sugar, opening the muffin and devouring half, impatience appeared and Mustang left to the dim and grimy men's room and pressed the door open with his shoulder.

Ed was at the first sink, stripped out of his jacket, and washing his face with paper towel before lifting his shirt and cleaning his stomach as well. Finding this odd, Mustang stopped chewing, and studied Ed's delicate motions. The boy was circling around his belly button as if his stomach was a large open wound.

With a tone of dark accusation Mustang said, "Fullmetal."

Ed yanked his shirt down for privacy and looked up at Mustang through the mirror. "Don't sneak up on people!" Ed snapped, turning the sink off and wiggling back into his wet coat. Ed noticed the suspicious expression and dropped his gaze with a fast, "I am muddy, and I don't like mud." Before lifting it wearing a new sarcastic smile, "And I am not opposed to hitting military personnel with the metal arm, so don't creep up on me."

Mustang took a large bite of his muffin and said, "Who's sneaking?"

Ed cleaned up fast, and with the blood wiped away, and his bangs in order, looked nearly untouched. He bought a bottle of water and held it to his jaw like an ice pack as they drove, and the car smelled like Mustang's hazelnut coffee.

The entrance to the military's barracks' complex was similar to that of Central's apartments. The single drive gave way to several closely spaced buildings with no more than six floors each. There was a wealth of small parking lots, cars of various financial means, and the signs of young soldiers the way college campuses had signs of young students.

Mustang had assigned Ed his barrack with thought to age consideration. Ed's barrack was new recruits, and young soldiers, and despite the fact Ed and Alphonse were now both alchemists, to his knowledge they were on good terms with their dimmer witted but energetic neighbors.

Mustang pulled to the curb outside the building Ed indicated, and Ed grasped the door handle and popped the door before asking, "Can you wait here for a second?"

"No," Mustang said irritably.

"I just want to get you gas money," Ed said. Mustang gave Ed a cold look. "I don't want to be in your debt." Ed stepped out and slammed the car door. He gave a stretch, cracking his back with a tight wince, before adding, "It will take two seconds!"

Reluctantly Mustang parked and followed Ed into building six and up two flights of stairs to room 28 where Ed unlocked his apartment slouched over and groaning. Mustang ignored this, and Ed held the door for them both before slamming it. "Alphonse!" Ed called into the apartment, beginning the task of wedging out of his boots. "I am back!"

Mustang stood on the entrance mat surveying the fully furnished dorm. The military provided basic collections, and the brothers had added nothing to the living room set of two couches, two lamps, and two end tables. Built of neutral colors, the barrack design, like most Central buildings, was alchemically constructed, and therefore more luxurious than the manual counterparts. The ceilings were high nine foot, and the living room a large open hub. In every barrack it was the central room, with a bathroom and kitchen off the left, and bedrooms and closet off the back.

When Edward was assigned his dorm Alphonse was in the armor, so it was a one bedroom. Two bedroom dorms were larger, and the waiting list was long, so since Alphonse's return to the flesh several years ago, they had never moved.

Alphonse exited the bedroom with a friendly, "Nii-san, where have you…" before silencing with poorly hidden shock on sight of Mustang. He stood out in casual personal space like a police officer. "Oh," Alphonse said, struggling from surprise to wobbling manners. "Hello Colonel, I wasn't expecting any guests." Alphonse was dressed in fair colored sports pants and a tee shirt. He looked more comfortable, and far younger, than Mustang had ever seen him.

"It was rather unexpected," Mustang said, not bothering to hide his irritation.

"Completely unplanned," Ed said dryly, managing free of his boots and losing an inch in height. "The colonel just happened to be in the neighborhood and gave me a lift." Ed hooked his thumb toward Roy while rubbing his automail shoulder. "Can you give him some gas money?" Ed asked, leaving to the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

Roy looked to the closed door and sighed before returning his gaze to Alphonse. "It seems your brother got into a bit of trouble. It wasn't horribly inconvenient to give him a ride."

Alphonse glanced suspiciously to the closed bathroom door with word of trouble. "I hope he wasn't too much of an inconvenience," Alphonse said, already certain Ed was. "Nii-san?" Alphonse walked to the bathroom door and knocked loudly. "What are you doing?"

"Taking a bath!" On cue the tub turned on.

"Are you just going to leave the colonel out here?" Alphonse asked, frustrated Ed's abandonment carelessly thrust etiquette entirely onto his shoulders.

With insult Ed yelled a loud, "No!" before adding, "pay him gas money and tell him to leave!" Alphonse groaned a little and looked over at Mustang, who stood within earshot.

"Well Colonel," Alphonse said, recovering with graceful familiarity only a life as Edward Elrics's younger brother yielded. "Since I don't know how far you drove him, how about you stay for dinner?" Alphonse offered a kind smile and Mustang raised his eyebrows with bored intrigue.

_Stay? Stay for dinner?_ Mustang was certainly hungry enough, but somehow this felt nervously like a conflict of interest. It was one thing to share drinks with subordinates in public places, and another to follow them home.

"It's no trouble," Alphonse said, sensing the hesitation. Although Mustang had shared it with no one, through the years he had carefully made certain no position of odd light, or seclusion, ever developed between him and Ed. Ed came to him as a young boy, and he wasn't married. _He didn't want to go down that road._ "It's really no trouble," Alphonse said again. "I am sure we interrupted yours."

Mustang envisioned his empty refrigerator, and gave in. "Sure, I appreciate the invitation."

Alphonse was pleased, and left for the kitchen calling back a happy, "Great! But I am not going to lie, I am not a very good cook."

Mustang slipped from his shoes and set his coat on the back of the couch before entering the kitchen. It was a very tight room with counters hugging the back corners, and a small table squeezed in. On the stove was a small bubbling pot and Alphonse stood in front of it. "Make yourself at home." Alphonse gestured to the kitchen table littered with papers full of small chicken scratch writing Mustang recognized from Ed. "I told him to pick it up or I'd use it as a table cloth," Alphonse said, sounding more exhausted then playful. "Sometimes," Alphonse said, turning toward the wall closest to the bathroom and raising his voice, "we're not very neat!"

Mustang didn't think Ed would hear this, but he did. Something slammed down in the bathroom and Ed yelled back. The words were muffled, but the tone was clear enough, and Alphonse gave a triumphant snort.

"Tell me Alphonse," Mustang said, stepping up to the table and looking at the notes. _All of it Marsisisms._ "Why does your brother have an interest in this?" he asked, picking up a single sheet of loose leaf. "He's restored your body."

Staring into the pot Alphonse smiled warmly, and said, "I promised I would restore his. We won't stop looking for a way until we do. Nii-san wants to learn everything he can about Alchemy. That's what he does. Ever since..." Alphonse paused for a moment and Mustang set the paper down. "One day, after everything, directly after, nii-san knew more than he did before. He understood things I couldn't. He's been a genius ever since, and he's insatiable." Alphonse turned to Mustang with another soft smile, and Mustang considered the word insatiable_._ It was a perfect word for Fullmetal.

"It must be very hard living like that," Mustang said, sharing honestly. Alphonse didn't answer, and Mustang changed topics quickly. "Thank you for inviting me for dinner. What are you serving?"

"Spaghetti and meatballs. I planned to make a salad, but didn't have a chance. I am not very good at making salads either, but I am getting better," Alphonse said, before looking up when they heard the bathroom door open. Ed trudged by to the beat of alternating flesh and metal steps wearing a towel with a second over his head destroying his peripheral vision. He said only one thing as he passed the kitchen doorway.

"Alphonse, we're out of conditioner."

Alphonse glanced nervously at Mustang, and Mustang understood at once Ed was not aware he was still in the apartment. Much of Alphonse's expression looked nervously guilty, as if he should have done something to warn Ed before letting him walk around half-naked, and he called out a quick, "Ah, nii-san?"

Mustang dropped his gaze to Ed's notes feeling equally uncomfortable. Staying for dinner was not supposed to branch further into personally domestic activity. Having Ed so insufficiently dressed was uncommon. He was the boy's commanding officer. He didn't attend military seminars, training drills, general horsing-around, or shower with the kid like the other soldiers, for bonding, he gave Ed instruction, and coached the boy into high performance. It felt much like iron work, Ed was an emotionally hot item, and as the blacksmith, he had to beat Ed into shape, confident he could make something the world would envy. For seven years he had the boy in his hand, and for seven years the beating had continued. Now Ed was nineteen, taller, lanky, and chiseled with self-made battle scars. The wide inquisitive eyes of his twelve year old self, had gone lazy with sarcasm, and the boy's once floundering mouth was in arrogant overdrive. He was a good soldier, fantastic alchemist, and wearing a towel, suddenly looked more like a young man than a child. Roy felt the years sneak up and ambush him. _Was it really that long ago the now easily pocketed watch was so heavy in that tiny hand?_

"Nii-san!" Alphonse called, when Ed continued into the bedroom, completely at ease with his marred and tiny body, and comfortable in his home with nothing in the horizon to fight. "About the colonel!"

"Yeah, I called him earlier!" Ed called. "I got stranded downtown and didn't want you to worry. It was nothing serious, I needed a ride and you didn't pick up." Ed sounded reassuring until this last part, which was given more of a scolding tone. _Couldn't you have picked up the phone?_

Alphonse left the sauce pot with a sigh and opened a near cabinet for spices. "I was asleep nii-san." Alphonse's tone said: _Can't a guy get some sleep?_

"Yeah well!" Ed snapped. "I had to call the freaking colonel and have him come and get me! I realized someone else should probably see the stupid area, and I was left with him!"

Mustang sat down at the kitchen table and watched Alphonse begin seasoning his tomato sauce.

"I didn't think he was going to come!" Ed said. Mustang smiled discretely. "Said he was busy, and then sounded mad!"

"I wasn't mad," Mustang told Alphonse. Alphonse laughed.

"Anyway," Ed called from the bedroom, approaching in fast footsteps. "My automail is freaking killing me with the dampness." Ed entered the kitchen in black, wearing a tight tee shirt and loose shorts, looking happy. He was still talking, and managed a fast, "Do you think you could…" before the sight of Mustang sitting at the table hit him like a truck. The pleasant expression, calm demeanor, and even basic communication was gone in the collision. Ed gave two rapid blinks and physically stiffened with understanding everything spoken since he arrived home, was indirectly said to the colonel. Struggling with embarrassment, Ed forced an irritated grin and said, "Nice to see you Colonel."

Mustang returned the smile. "Edward, you clean up nicely outside of work."

Ed's smile tightened, and he sent an aggressive eye flare to Alphonse.

"I invited him for dinner," Alphonse said, ignoring Ed's vertical rigor mortis. "I tried to tell you he was here, but you didn't give me the chance."

"No big deal," Ed lied, sounding annoyed. He went to Alphonse's side and looked into the cooking pot. "Spaghetti, huh?" Then he sunk into one of the kitchen chairs looking relieved to be off his feet, before noticing the note covered table. Immediately uncomfortable, Ed jerked up with new energy and began picking up his work with speed and intensity.

Alphonse carried the pot to the table with a smile. "We should have you over more often Colonel," Alphonse teased. "We'd have a cleaner place." Alphonse set the pot on the table and gave Ed a discrete motivating kick, soliciting help. "We're not keeping you from anything, are we?" Alphonse asked, leaving for dishes.

Ed piled his notes into a heap and moved them on top of the refrigerator.

"I stopped my paperwork at five, so outside of my own dinner arrangements, no," Mustang said, taking the plate Alphonse offered. "Thank you again for inviting me." Ed took the silverware and set two place settings before handing Mustang his.

With dishes on the table, Ed added a water pitcher, pile of napkins, and sunk back into his chair looking relieved, albeit tired. Along his bottom lip and chin was a small scrape, nothing more than a bit of red lines, and Mustang was surprised it hid so easily.

"What's on your desk these days, Mustang?" Ed asked, eagerly serving himself spaghetti from the pot Alphonse had set out.

"Our murder rate has spiked recently, with a small series of cases we believe are connected. They aren't big news, but they've been enough to cause a bit of fuss," Mustang said, waiting with Alphonse for Ed to finish. As soon as Ed was done Alphonse gestured for Mustang to serve himself wishing Ed had remembered guests should be served first. "All of the victims are individuals who won't be missed." Mustang filled his plate before handing the serving utensils to Alphonse. "But we have an interest in the killer so we're monitoring the case closely."

Ed ate like the starving.

"What's causing the military to monitor the cases?" Alphonse asked, serving his own plate before pouring water into all three cups.

"We have reason to believe he may be an alchemist," Mustang said, swirling a forkful of pasta. "A skilled alchemist."

Ed stopped adding to his mouth and held a full fork before his face chewing with an expression of puzzled disagreement. "The murders were done with alchemy?" Ed asked, sounding skeptical. Mustang shook his head, mouth full and unable to answer. Alphonse's sauce had a homemade flavor that was missed when you were a bachelor who didn't like to cook. Ed was content to wait for an answer and continued with, "Then what makes you think it's an alchemist?"

Mustang swallowed what was in his mouth. "I am not at liberty to discuss it. It's been classified."

Ed bristled and turned sourly to his food. Alphonse noticed this and tried to move on smoothly. "I hope it doesn't get too out of hand," Alphonse said.

"Without discussing why the murders implicate an alchemist, you're indirectly confessing the murders were done with the use of alchemy," Ed said, exercising brittle patience. He stabbed up some loose noodles, and gave Mustang a cold look. "Don't talk to us like we're stupid while you're in our place. Does locking away information, do it for you? Give you that, important glee?" Ed gave his shoulders a quick, mocking, elated shiver.

Alphonse whispered a discrete, "Nii-san," and Ed broke his gaze with Mustang and dropped it to his dish.

"I can't understand your sudden fascination with Marsisisms Edward," Mustang said, moving on comfortably and taking a sip of water.

Sarcastically Ed muttered, "Just want to exercise the mind."

"Rapid cell growth?" Mustang asked, referring to the topic he'd seen most in Ed's notes. "The science won't be remotely manageable for decades, if it ever is. It's new, and unstable fantasy." Ed was angry, and kept his gaze in his dish. He pushed his pasta from the right side to the left with short irritated kicks of his fork. "That won't help you get your limbs back."

Ed gave his plate a harsh stab, and looked up. "My notes are classified," Ed said softly, speaking with slow building rage.

"You make it starkly apparent you haven't gotten any closer since the last time you stormed in demanding access to the research," Mustang said giving a heavy sigh. "You can't set your sights on something weak, and think effort alone will make it strong. Even when you were younger your bull-headed nature let you immerse yourself this way. Don't make us both look like fools. I'll have you hobbling into my office like a pirate, with a wooden peg for a right leg and hook on the left arm. A second possible taboo, is just as unsafe as the first, well-proven, disaster."

Ed's automail shoulder gave a short twitch, and directly after Ed set his fork down loudly. "I've lost my appetite Alphonse, sorry," Ed said, gaze averted with abject loathing. He stood quickly and tossed his napkin to the table before stomping from the room.

Mustang watched Ed leave before exhaling with a bit of disappointment he momentarily forgot the location. Being frank inside the office, where there was rank, felt misplaced here. "That was rude of me," Mustang said apologetically. _How true this was._ "I apologize." He turned to Alphonse's disapproving frown. "My comments had no tact." He looked back to his food, but suddenly his appetite was gone as well.

"It's a sore subject for us," Alphonse said, but his polite tone sounded force. "An open wound is an easy target." Alphonse reached to Mustang's dish and grasped the side. "If you're finished," he said, giving pause until Roy nodded, "Thank you for having dinner with us." Alphonse stood and cleared their plates, before sitting Ed's alongside the sink.

Mustang stood and placed the pitcher and napkins on the counter near the sink feeling like a jack-ass. Ed made it easy to fling mud when the boy tried to loop into well-traveled routines of devastation like the insane. It was easy to criticize, and a pirate was his first thought. The Marsisism nagging had grown old, Ed needed to leave it alone.

Alphonse followed Mustang to the door and gave a brief smile as Mustang left. He didn't want to hang around, and in journey from the kitchen to the exit Ed was nowhere in sight. Deepest were the wounds Ed didn't even want to argue about, and Alphonse was right, an open lesion was a cheap shot, no matter how relevant.

It was a dinner well blundered, and walking down the stairs Mustang considered if the fresh wedge would work in his favor for at least a few days where Ed might be too mad to bother him while in office.

Mustang stopped with his hand on the building's exit. _He had left his coat._ Sourly he returned for it, and cresting the second floor, he stopped when Fullmetal's door opened. Alphonse stepped out, paused, called in a loud and angry, "What!" and then went back inside. The movement was quick, and he smacked the door too lightly for it to close. It bounced off the latch, and as Mustang approached he could hear the brother's talking

Ed's was speaking quickly, first inaudibly, but with increasing proximity becoming perfectly audible. Mustang stepped into the partly open doorway in time to catch Ed's loud, "I said, I am getting back in the tub!"

Alphonse stood alongside the couch facing the back bedroom with his hands on his hips. "Nii-san, all that water isn't good for you. What about the rest of your skin?"

"It's fine! I'll put lotion on right after," Ed said quickly. "Alphonse, I am not waiting until you get back, it's really acting up!" Mustang found this admission intriguing. _What exactly could automail do to act up?_ "Get the numbing stuff."

"That's not good for you either," Alphonse said, with the same disapproving tone.

Ed emerged from the bedroom in a towel rubbing his temples. "Fine." Ed waived this off like he couldn't deal with it. "I'll be in the tub," Ed grumbled, starting a limp to the bathroom. The weak leg was the automail leg, and Roy watched this curiously. Below Ed's towel the metal leg was a gleaming fixture, polished, unscratched, and impeccable. The grace of its design, and its current misuse, reminded Roy of a fine car model with poor tires, and somehow, this implied the dysfunction was not just on Ed's end, but Ed's fault.

"Nii-san." Alphonse scolded, sounding both worried and annoyed with Ed's state. "Nii-san! I am not going if you get back in."

Ed stopped. "Man came from the sea!"

"_No Darwin now!"_ Alphonse raised his voice when Ed did so, and then they both silenced. For a moment neither spoke further, and then Alphonse sighed and let his hands slip from his hips. "I am sorry," Alphonse said softly, walking over to Ed. "I know it hurts you."

"You don't have automail," Ed said flatly, flinching with Alphonse's quick attempt at a hug.

"Nii-san," Alphonse whispered, gently running his hand onto Ed's shoulder before touching the metal limb. Ed winced under the weightless touch because everything was sore, and he gave his shoulder a small shrug to brush Alphonse away. "I'll get the pads, and something you can take to dull it. The dampness will pass," Alphonse said, optimistically. Ed let himself be subdued and took to Alphonse's comfort. "Let's wrap it in the electric blanket," Alphonse suggested. Ed groaned loudly in protest, but it went ignored. Alphonse left quickly to the bedroom, with a loud, "That will keep you out of the water!"

"Al, this would be _so _much easier if you'd just let me get back in the freaking tub," Ed complained. Alphonse returned with a thick heavy blanket and plugged it in along side the couch. "It's only for...a few minutes or...I'll get out as soon as you're back!"

"Nii-san, you took two baths yesterday and three already. By the time the night is up, you'll be a prune, I know it. They're steadily increasing." Alphonse beckoned Ed to him, and Ed looked opposed to moving, but limped a few steps forward, and reached for help. "I'll come back as soon as I can, and if anything starts acting up we'll do the pins early." Alphonse took Ed's hand and helped him to the couch.

"Can you believe what...that asshole said to me?" Ed asked, groaning as he eased down to the cushions. "He doesn't know what it's like. He doesn't know anything; he's such an asshole to me."

"The colonel apologized for his comments."

Mustang stiffened. The big asshole Ed was talking about, was him.

"I don't care," Ed said, letting Alphonse wrap his automail leg in the blanket.

"He said it was devoid of tact."

"I don't care!" Ed repeated. "I'd like to see him walk one day like this! I'd like to see him manage one damn day! And—Instead he just—with that superior attitude, won't tell me anything I need to know. I have to work twice as hard for everything I need to know."

Alphonse reached to Ed's automail arm and lifted it to get a pillow comfortably underneath, but Ed hissed with pain. Alphonse stopped, and looked to Ed for explanation, but Ed averted his gaze uncomfortably. He managed a tiny shrug, and in a voice soft with self-disappointment, muttered, "I…got caught in the rain."

Alphonse's posture drooped, and he gave a long sympathetic sigh. Carefully he positioned Ed's arm with support from the pillow and wrapped it with the second half of the blanket. "That was unwise of your wise self." Alphonse sounded slightly annoyed.

"I couldn't avoid it," Ed said, cooperating with an awakening eagerness for the meager heat of the blanket. "Some of our study traveled outside, and I had to follow. He didn't care it was raining, so I went with it. He doesn't like it if I interrupt."

Alphonse muttered an inaudible compliant, and continued wrapping the blanket tight. It weaved from the leg to the arm, and the last tug took the bottom of Ed's tee shirt a few inches upward.

Immediately Ed snatched it, as if he'd be made indecent. He pushed it down, covering his navel self-consciously. It was a fast and frantic move, like a girl catching her lifting skirt, but it wasn't fast enough to keep Alphonse from what was hiding underneath.

"What happened!" Alphonse cried, yanking Ed's shirt up his chest and exposing the large bandage taped down Ed's stomach.

"Nothing! Just a scratch!" Ed said, fighting for control of his shirt and pulling it back down.

"That's not a scratch!"

"It's a scratch," Ed repeated angrily.

"That's not a scratch!"

"Okay, so fine, he went ape shit on me again," Ed said, cringing as he shot movement through his aching body. "That doesn't mean we need to slow down the process here, I don't want to talk about it, go get the stuff."

Before this conversation Mustang stood in plain sight, but with it, he ducked back, listening intently. Ed had lied, clearly and presumably about the entire event. Why he was downtown, why he needed a ride, and what had happened to his face. Ed had met someone, and whoever that person was, they had some type of talent, or value, that allowed them to clock the Fullmetal Alchemist in the face, no toll to be had.

"Nii-san, I don't like that man, he's crazy," Alphonse said, sounding worried. Alphonse wrapped Ed tenderly, as if he were an infant, but it wasn't soft enough. Ed was cringing with his jaw clenched.

"He knows what he's talking about," Ed said, speaking through his grit teeth, trying to relax. "He's telling me what I need to know. So I'll risk it."

"What's the point of saving part of you at the price of the rest of you?" Alphonse asked kindly. Ed grunted with disgust. "Nii-san, I want to talk about this more." Alphonse stood up and went for the door.

Mustang backed up quickly and glanced about the hall for a place to hide. Long and void of any furniture it was impossible, and he contemplated either sprinting for the exit, or faking the beginning of a knock. Then he spotted his only option. Two doors away, near the elevators, was a narrow hallway to a single maintenance door. A large plant was decoratively positioned to help hide the door. Hoping no one witnessed him sneaking into such a ridiculous space, Mustang slid behind it and waited.

"I am leaving this unlocked so you don't have to let me in," Alphonse said, still in route to the door. "You still can't find my key?"

"Sorry," Ed mumbled.

Alphonse left, and Mustang hid when he passed. He waited for Alphonse's footsteps to fade before creeping out from his hiding spot. Approaching the Elric door, he looked into the peep-hole. He knew he was snooping, and he knew this was nosy, but seeing that small uncensored communication between Ed and his brother made him curious. The evening was still unfolding, and selfishly he wanted answers to the opened questions the boys had dropped.

Taking precedence over all, was identifying exactly who Ed was seeing and why.

Through the peep-hole Mustang could see Ed lying on the couch. He was as still as death, and looked to be in a deep sleep before he lifted his hand and began rubbing his face. The mannerism was frustrated groping of the temples. Agitated fussing, and Mustang had seen Ed exhibit this in the office when Ed didn't like what he was hearing.

Ed was pinching the bridge of his nose, before giving a brief struggle in search of comfort. He kicked his legs out, tipped his head back, and tried to elevate his automail arm more successfully. Then he settled, grew angry when no relief came, and jerked upright wearing an ugly frown and announced, "Forget it." The movement caused a heavy wince. "I can't take this, I am getting back in the tub," Ed said, beginning to unravel himself. He pushed the blanket off his leg, and shucked his shorts, leaving him in gray boxers.

The sound of footsteps began advancing, and Mustang stepped back from the door. The weight and pace was familiar, and seconds after he managed to return to his hiding space, Alphonse appeared.

Alphonse was moving quickly, and entered his apartment with excitement, and gave the door another half hearted smack. _Again, it did not click._

"Nii-san!" Mustang heard Alphonse exclaim. "Where were you going!" Alphonse sounded as if he already knew the answer.

"To get a drink!" Ed yelled defensively. "Get me one since you're back here wasting time."

Mustang snuck back to the door, and Ed had moved from one couch to the other. With an expression of deep exasperated frustration, he was rubbing his leg just above the automail port, and did not look happy with Alphonse's reappearance.

"Last time this happened I wore this same jacket, car keys were still in it," Alphonse said, approaching quickly while digging a small circular container out of his pocket. He held it up triumphantly, and Ed's miserable gaze brightened with intrigue.

"You," Ed said quickly, scooting back and dragging his leg onto the couch. "You got two last time?"

Alphonse nodded, and began opening the container. "As soon as I made it to the car, I put my hand in my pocket and found it. I came right back. This should at least make it better until I get back." Alphonse sounded proud, but once the container was in sight, all of Ed's focus was directed on readying his leg. He shifted his weight to lean into the arm of the couch, and pulled his shorts up his thigh so between the automail knee and bunch of fabric there was nothing but flesh. Simultaneously, Alphonse climbed onto the couch and knelt between Ed's legs, and Mustang was stunned.

_This was something._ Mustang opened the door another inch, and watched with fascination. He couldn't make sense of the actions, and part of him worried he might begin witnessing something he would later regret, but he was captivated. This uncategorized moment threatened to erase eight years of history with his subordinates. It was a brand new introduction.

_Roy Mustang, meet the Elrics, Elrics, Colonel Roy Mustang._

The guarded wealth of witty remarks and skepticism that Ed wore as a shielding badge of pride, had vanished, and Alphonse's youth was dropping away for quiet, intimate, enlightenment.

Alphonse emptied the container's ointment into his palm and scrubbed his hands as if preparing for surgery. When he was greased with something thick and clear, he took hold of the scarred and darkened flesh directly above Ed's leg port, with absolute tender care. Ed hissed all the same, and stared down at Alphonse's shimmering fingers as he gently smeared the medication over the cratered dips of skin, the wrinkled misshapen clumps, and permanent stains of purple and brown that existed alone the entrance line.

"This will make it feel better," Alphonse said softly.

"Tolerable," Ed corrected. "This will make it feel tolerable." Alphonse's hands looked not to move as he ever so carefully slid the ointment along the crease of flesh and metal. "Hurry up," Ed complained. Alphonse ignored this until Ed gave another impatient, "Hurry up, hurry up." Then Alphonse slid his hands upward slowly, squeezing to caress the cramped solid muscle, and Ed shuddered. Alphonse's hands held comfort, but they were still secondary hands, and with Ed's muscles locking upward in a thread to his groin, it was a bit awkward. His nerves were sensitive inside and above the metal port, and he had been thankful his entire automail life the infrastructure was not any higher.

"Easy," Alphonse whispered, and at the door trying to keep visual and audio at the same time, Mustang hardly made this out. Alphonse's back was to the door, but Ed's tense expression, meditating breaths, and intense scrutiny of Alphonse's work, was all the proof Mustang needed to answer his first question on what automail could do: _Jack up your muscles._ Memories of Ed bitching about foul weather, refusing to accompany transport when it was storming, and generally being a little prick on rainy days, surfaced quickly. Feeling a bit foolish now, Mustang had always attributed this to that one night Tucker's daughter died outside in the rain, and Ed took it hard. It had never occurred to him the reason to dislike wet weather was compounded any further.

"You're frustrated," Alphonse said to Ed, sounding disappointed. "You're still thinking about what he said."

"I am mad."

Alphonse smiled privately, and with a bit of jest to his voice said, "He looks good in uniform, doesn't he?" Ed bristled with this remark and turned his gaze into the room. "Nii-san," Alphonse slid his hands back to the rim of Ed's port. "Why don't you try talking to—"

"—I am not talking to that chauvinistic pig," Ed said quickly, more than agitated. "I'd just be adding to his list of ammunition. He'll just have something new to taunt me with." Ed returned his gaze to Alphonse's patient expression. "I'd never hear the end of it," he said miserably, "if he knew I…thought he looked…good."

Mustang stepped back from the door. _He? If he knew?_ This was a bit surprising, but after a few contemplating seconds, the initial surprise wore away with something close to the dull obvious. Ed was a young analytical alchemic engineer. Much of the boy's brain was rooted in the black and white of equations and absolutes, and that didn't translate easily into the gushing scientifically-unstable emotions of the female gender. Ed had always respected talent and strength, even as an ignorant twelve year old. Young, the boy stared with unabashed interest at great alchemists, military generals, and other scientists with something close to star-struck desire. Suddenly it felt insultingly obvious Ed might have fallen in love with the high wielding strength and alchemic mastery he fought so hard to obtain and uphold, rather than skirts.

Frankly obvious in hindsight was the second realization Ed was never sharing stories of what girl he'd boinked, and that type of story sharing was common. In fact, with some quick, but careful, deliberation, Mustang was certain he'd never heard Ed comment on any type of sexual conquest, female or other, and hell, there had to be dozens of women who wanted to add the flashy tile of The Fullmetal Alchemist to their name, even if only as a quick five minute blow.

Mustang smirked with new found pride at the thought of Ed getting his kicks with some young silly thing. It reminded him of his own years as a new recruit, and his even more active years as a young alchemist, where girls responded to that word the same way they did to lawyer and doctor. They liked his eyes, they liked his uniform, they liked his talent, and they loved his title. Ed was just a rookie, but he had all those cards on the table, but the little shit was secretive.

Strangely misplaced came the brief, defensively possessive grip, born when Mustang changed his mental image from something tittering and blonde, to another uniform. That picture held more danger, with the lucrative spontaneity and potentially fatal lifestyle some of the enlisted led, and his first desire was to remove the anonymous party. As a commanding officer, that was one right he didn't have. Control of Ed's personal life, and therefore extending sex life, regardless of preference, was not his to reign, but spitefully, he felt his hold refuse to budge.

"You don't know that," Alphonse said, breaking the long pause of silence. "You certainly won't know it for sure until you test your hypothesis. Maybe Roy won't laugh."

Mustang's thoughts stopped with the sudden sensation of the ground dropping from beneath his feet. It wasn't over this, wrongfully acquired fact, and implication yet another person thought he was attractive. It was the loud and roaring metal image of his office with nothing more than his desk, seated self, and Edward standing in front of it. Between their bodies a large fat red arrow went from Ed's chest, to his face, and the boy was smirking. _Smirking for all these years, _and the curtain pulling back on just what the hell we were smirking about was unsettling. It felt assaulting. He had been so dedicated to dancing on the wire of professionalism and safe distance with the boy's younger self, he hadn't noticed that as Ed grew into adult hood, that almost instinctual caution was no longer appropriate. With adulthood came the great and powerful word, CONSENT.

"Nii-san," Alphonse complained.

Ed gave a quick and miserable, "No."

Alphonse stopped his massage and sat back. His hands were lifted as if soiled, and they looked greased. "But," he said. "You need release." Ed gave Alphonse a disagreeable look. "You do, it's not unnatural nii-san. You should be enjoying yourself."

With sudden understanding, the topic of conversation was not work stress, but rooted in sexual tension, Ed sputtered an uncomfortable, "How—how can you talk to me about things like this?" He separated himself from Alphonse a few inches and flopped back, with a quick, "Dammit Alphonse."

"I don't mind talking to you about it nii-san," Alphonse said, ignoring Ed when he dragged his flesh arm over his eyes and groaned. "I feel we're one in the same, after everything." Ed lifted his arm enough to give Alphonse a bitter scolding glare, and Alphonse laughed, "Well, I do." Alphonse climbed off the couch and gave his fingers a curious wiggle. "What you should be embarrassed about, is how taken you are with a little anatomy after calling yourself a scientist."

Ed gave a weak smile. "You're ridiculous." He reached to the couch end table, retrieved a sleep mask, and slipped it over his eyes.

Alphonse left to the kitchen and washed his hands, before heading to the door when Ed called a, "Hey, did you grab some water?"

"I am only one man," Alphonse called back. "Do you want me to go, or get you a drink?"

Ed waved to the door, even with Alphonse still in route. "Go!" he called. "Go, hurry up!"

Alphonse stopped dead just inside the door, and sounding worried, said, "Oh nii-san, Mustang forgot his coat."

With immense irritation Ed groaned out, "God dammit."

"Do you think he'll come back for it?"

"I hope not."

"Don't lie nii-san." Alphonse laughed. "It looks like a good coat. I bet he'll come back."

"He's a colonel," Ed said irritably. "Every coat is a good freaking coat."

"Do you think I should wait? In case he does?" Alphonse asked, opening the door and standing in the threshold with Mustang's coat.

"No!" Ed yelled, horrified with the idea. "Go Alphonse! Put it down!" Ed lifted his head from the couch and pushed the sleep mask to his forehead. "He can stand outside and ring the bell until his finger bleeds for all I care! Go get my stuff! You know what this is like!"

Alphonse set Mustang's coat down with Ed ranting, and left with orders for Ed to stay on the couch.

Mustang returned to the Elric door and confirmed it unlocked. _He wanted his coat. _Tentatively he lifted his hand to knock while watching Ed through the peep-hole. Ed looked uncomfortable but tired, and after Mustang's first knock, didn't so much as move. Mustang allowed a polite pause, and then knocked louder. _Was Ed serious about leaving his guests in the hall? All he wanted was his coat._

Carefully, Mustang opened the door enough to step in. Aware he was invading, it seemed appropriate enough just to retrieve the coat. With a cautious eye on Ed, Mustang moved to the second couch where Alphonse left it. He lifted it from the back, and his movement caused Ed to abruptly point towards the kitchen.

"Get the water," Ed said angrily. "I feel like I am eating cotton balls. I don't know why you're back Alphonse, just get the cup, get what you need, and go."

_My god, Ed's ears were good._

Mustang looked toward the kitchen and hesitated. _This was crossing the line, wasn't it?_ If he moved he'd be deceptively implying he was Alphonse, and yet, if he didn't, he'd be giving away the fact he was not Alphonse.

All things considered, he did not expect things to go over well if Ed discovered he was not Alphonse, so he left for the kitchen. He had once, during a boring conference in the East, let a fly land, drown, and float in Ed's coffee cup without warning the boy before he sipped it. When Ed discovered this, the grudge made office life miserable for months. In many petty ways Ed delivered payback, and if that was the price for the death of a fly, Mustang didn't want to know what followed home-invasion.

Mustang kept his strides silent, and his footfalls light, so there was no sound of body weight or pace. He was indistinguishable from Alphonse, and filled one of the used dinner glasses from the counter and brought it to the couch. Every noise he'd made retrieving the glass, running the tap, and even giving a cabinet a quick open-and-close, assuming Alphonse would give Ed a clean cup, he made loud and clear. He outlined the events, so when he neared the couch, Ed extended a hand and went to move the mask from his eyes.

Without hesitation, Mustang snatched Ed's automail hand and stopped it from disrupting the mask. He kept the grip tight, but didn't pull strongly, and thrust the glass into Ed's flesh palm. He didn't think he could drop the cup and run to the door without being caught, so the only option was to do this with Ed blind.

Ed stalled with a bit of confusion, and then uncertain acceptance. The smell of the medicated ointment rising off him stung Mustang's sinuses viciously, and caused a dry chalky taste to assault his mouth. The desire for water was suddenly very understandable, and he loosened his hold on the cup so Ed would instinctively grasp it.

Ed brought the glass to his lips and began drinking after a muttered, "Thanks."

Mustang waited, watching the metal arm for signs it would try to move, but Ed was utterly relaxed. Sprayed out on the couch in a shirt and underwear, Mustang marveled at the changes. In the office Ed wore long sleeves and pants. Even the few times they'd been in the desert, he refused to give up his gloves and coat. Modest was an appropriate word, and hermit might better fit, but peeled free of several layers, was the clear, well-developed body of a young man. The flesh arm was strong, the flesh leg stronger. The bit of skin above the rim of Ed's shorts, laced with lines from his abdominals, and dusting fine blonde hair downward from his belly button. Somehow uncovered, Edward looked smaller, albeit taller, and stronger, yet less dangerous.

Roy's waiting hand reached to Ed's forehead where a single blonde bang was sliding forward toward his nose, and brushed it aside. It felt like a ribbon, and the touch of the boy against skin, brought only one thought: what the heck am I doing?

_Roy Mustang meet Edward Elric._

Ed emptied the cup and handed it upward blindly. Mustang took it, weary he was actually pulling this off, and eager to be free. He stepped back too quickly, caught the edge of the coffee table, and Ed laughed.

Ed snorted a teasing, "You okay?" until Mustang stepped back with too much weight, and in one single movement gave himself away. Instantly, they both knew it. Mustang lifted his gaze to the door, in panic, and the smile washed from Ed's face, in fear.

The metal hand came outward almost too fast to see, and if Mustang had not been in the military for seven years, with skills the common man would never need, he would have been caught.

Ed would have snatched hold of Mustang, body climbing up from the couch, flesh hand reaching to the sleep mask. Instead, Mustang evaded the grab, and in two lunging strides, was in the hall.

Mustang made his breakaway, fleeing at a quick, mildly suspicious pace, toward the stairs. Behind him he heard the snap as Ed ripped the sleep mask off, the spark of a transmutation as the metal arm became a blade, the slam of furniture as the coffee table was kicked aside, and Ed's vicious, "Who's there!"

He rounded the corner to the stairs, pressed his back against the wall, and took a breath. From the other end of the hall a pair of chatting soldiers entered, and he was almost caught. _Close call._

Ed charged into the hall in fast limping steps. He looked both ways, raking his flesh hand through his hair in muddled panic. _Who was skilled enough to get so close the knife could plunge right in!_ Grabbing at his scalp, memory of the stranger's hand in his hair came stampeding back, and Ed tipped his head forward and slapped at his bangs with paranoia.

Mustang peeked into the hall, and Ed's half-dressed self looked comically as if he were trying to combat an invisible attacking bee.

"What happened Fullmetal!" One of the soldiers called, stopping many doors away and slipping the key into their own dorm.

Ed spun toward the voice, expression full of alarm and confusion. The automail knee buckled and Ed took a limping step toward the wall, and braced against it for support. "Hey, you see anyone out here?" Ed called over.

"Out here?" the soldier asked, unlocking his door and pocketing his keys.

Ed was catching his breath, and nodding said, "Yeah, how long have you been out here?"

"What happened, she get away from you?" the soldier teased kindly. The young recruit with him began laughing and whistled a loud cat call. "Don't worry, she won't get far in her bra and panties!"

Ed stomped back into his apartment and slammed the door with a loud, "Shut up!"

* * *

Standing alongside Mustang's office desk, Hawkeye studied the schedule he'd handed her. It was his own, and she read the many items consuming his eight hours day and asked, "What is it you think you can cancel?"

Mustang was frantically completing the expense report Finance was screaming for. "Something, whatever you think I can get away with. I want to be out at four today."

"Four?" Hawkeye looked up with surprise. "Four, sir?" There was a knock, and they both looked to the door when it cracked and Alphonse stuck his head in. Mustang beckoned Alphonse over with a wide polite smile, and Hawkeye's look of surprise became shock. "Sir?" she returned his schedule to his desk, "your guess is as good as mine."

"You're so much better at that game than I am," Mustang said quickly, keeping his attention on Alphonse as the boy crossed the room. Alphonse was in the Amestrian uniform minus the jacket, and was working with the infantry soldiers, so he was scuffed and sandy. Unlike his brother, who found mingling with the soldiers tolerable for only so long, Alphonse enjoyed experiencing each aspect of life as a newly enlisted soldier. Naturally this made him well liked by the men, and they saw Alphonse Elric as a reliable team member, and barely noticed the State Alchemist chain.

Alphonse stopped before Mustang's desk looking confused, and Mustang gave Hawkeye a quick glance, signaling a conclusion to their discussion, and flashed four fingers. He handed her the expense report, ink still drying, and she left with a discrete roll of her eyes. Her subtle sigh of exhaustion implied she might never feel she understood it all.

Mustang turned all attention to Alphonse and steepled his fingers beneath his chin. "Alphonse, thank you for coming."

"What did you want to see me for?" Alphonse asked, sneaking a curious glance around to confirm they were alone. Alphonse seemed to expect Ed would also be present, but made no comment. _Seven years of habit died hard._

"I wanted to apologize again for last night," Mustang said. Hawkeye was just shutting the door when the word apologize caught her attention. She looked back with one of her kind warning glances. _Be careful_, her eyes said. Roy ignored this. "I felt guilty after leaving. I did not mean to ruin your dinner."

Alphonse gave a casual shrug. "It's okay."

"To make it up to you, I want to take you both out to dinner tonight."Alphonse's eyebrows lifted with surprise. "To a very nice restaurant." After seeing Ed in his underwear, he now wanted to know what the boy looked like in a suit. "I…" Mustang silenced when commotion developed outside his office door. A new voice entered the outer office, and greeted everyone loudly, before Ed's familiar footfalls came parading straight for his door.

Alphonse was right to assume Ed might be present for this meeting, Mustang had called for both Elrics, but as usual, Ed was arriving late, and as usual, Mustang was keeping his schedule despite Ed's best efforts.

Directly before Mustang's office door swung open without a knock, Alphonse looked back expectantly. Ed marched in with the door still whooshing aside to make room, and said, "I know I am late, but I had things to do." He was smirking with smug satisfaction, before stopping dead on sight of Alphonse.

With an accusing expression of suspicion taking Ed's face, Ed flicked the door so it slammed, and came to stand next to Alphonse with his hands shoved into his pockets. Mustang secretly loved Edward's defiance. The willful disobedience was unyielding and unbroken by the military's lash. While occasionally obnoxious, Mustang took pride in the Ed's spitfire, even when the current activity was, say, standing in front of your commanding officer in a disrespecting position.

Alphonse explained with a quick, "Nii-san, the colonel is inviting us to dinner."

"Listen to this," Ed mocked, lulling his weight to the side. "That's rather odd Colonel." Ed's gaze narrowed with playful caution. "I didn't get the memo hell froze over."

Alphonse kept his gaze on Mustang, and whispered a discrete, "nii-san," before and asking, "When sir?"

"Tonight," Mustang said, ignoring Ed's invitation to bicker. Ed frowned when his comment went unaddressed. "Since you both were so kind to treat me last night, I will do the same tonight. That is equivalent after all."

Ed answered quickly, too quickly for any deliberation, and shifting his gaze to the side of the room said, "I have previous arrangements."

Alphonse gave Ed a fleeting glance of confusion, before answering with a happy, "Well I'll accept Colonel."

Ed jerked his elbow into Alphonse's side. The action was meant to be discrete, but was not. Ed looked both surprised and uncomfortable with Alphonse's consent, and was hiding it poorly.

"Tonight would be perfect," Alphonse continued.

"Thank you," Mustang said. "Shall I give you directions, or pick you up?" He retrieved a piece of paper for directions.

"You're not going to go in his shaggin' wagon," Ed said to Alphonse, sounding confused with all of this.

"Edward it's a domestic car, behave yourself," Mustang said.

Use of Ed's full first-name was attention grabbing, and Ed's eyes jerked to Mustang. Almost as quickly, Ed gave a disgusted grunt, partially unhappy with the current discussion, and embarrassed with his fast obedient response to Mustang's call.

"Do what you like then. I am dismissing myself." Ed left for the door, and added, "Got things to do," before slamming it behind him.

Looking tired with a common routine, Alphonse muttered a scripted, "Please excuse my brother sir."

"He's already done that himself," Mustang said, with a hint of anger.

Alphonse left with directions, and Mustang turned to his windows and stared down at the parade ground thinking of the two boys he'd met last night. Alphonse's second side was now visible for Mustang inside his first, but Ed's was not. The real Edward Elric seemed hostage, locked in a box tight within the violent shell. Curious with intrigue, Mustang found himself drumming his fingers and wondering where he would find the key.

Tonight he would extend his hand and introduce himself, man to man, soldier to soldier, alchemist to alchemist. _Roy Mustang, meet Edward Elric, Edward Elric, Roy Mustang. _

How long ago should this have happened, and for how long had we been referring to the practices designed for a twelve year old on Edward's changed, and older self?

Mustang was pleasantly surprised when Alphonse did not arrive for dinner. In his place, came a shorter, thinner blonde, looking hot to the touch.

Severely uneasy, but unwilling to pass up this opportunity, Ed gave Mustang one dirty vicious look from beneath gorgeous blonde bangs, and said, "You better not be cheap."

* * *

_**Hello and welcome!**_

Thank you for popping in to read my first humble chapter of this story! I hope you will find it interesting and enjoyable enough to continue until the end. I will try to keep this author's note quick, but please heed the below.

**Story Overview / Posting Timeframe:  
**"Foolish For You" is a completed, multi-chapter story, beginning today, chapters will be posted every Friday, with the exception of Chapter Two: _Our Mistake_, to be posted Friday 06/21/13. (This is my posting style, and there are more details on my profile). If there are to be any future exceptions, I will advise, and always confirm the posting date of the next chapter in the most recent chapter.

**Rating Disclaimer:  
**This is a yaoi RoyxEd story, today's rating of T will change to M/MA beginning with Chapter 2, as this story will pick up speed quickly. "Foolish For You" contains graphic scenes, adult content aimed at mature audiences, and will include references/suggestions/themes of the yaoi arc. Please read according to your own comfort level. As this is the first M/MA story I am posting, some chapters will have rating disclaimers at the top, out of respect to you as the reader, and for your convenience.

**Miscellaneous Marketing:  
**I apologize in advance for the use of "nii-san," try and bear it. I saw FMA first in Japanese, and I just can't hear Alphonse talking to Ed any other way. I will not fix this, so just try to…go with the flow : )

Okay! So now that all the fine print is taken care of - this story has some action, romance, suspense, all the good stuff. Alert me! Follow me! Come back for this one, you will enjoy it. I promise, you'll get some laughs, some worries, and some thrills. : )

Hope to see you all on 06/21/13 for Chapter 2! _Please review!_


	2. Our Mistake

This chapter is rated MA for Mature Sexual Content, Graphic Scenes, and Yaoi Material  
Reader discretion advised

* * *

Foolish For You  
Chapter Two  
_Our Mistake_

- mirage -

Mustang was aware he had been granted the upper hand, as clearly as if Ed self delivered it showing up in Alphonse's stead. This wasn't a debacle of schedule, and effort on the Elric half not to be rude, this was one party railroading their brother's ticket, and asking him to stay behind. This was one party seeking an intimate dinner of two over a casual dinner of three, and it was one party, who had their agenda fully disclosed without their knowledge.

With a sort of cunning elated joy, Mustang watched Ed conduct himself under the guise his lie for appearing was swallowed, when in fact, Mustang had heard the boy confess what his true objective was: INFATUATION.

There was something tickling about being on the glorious receiving end of a desirable person's attraction. Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, was intelligent, talented, famous, well employed, and well paid. He played on the same field Mustang was so accustomed to. The field you were allowed to rule, because you were allowed to make the demands, because you were the sought after, and everyone else was the seeking. Like two positive ends of a battery attracting, this made the level of intellectual and sexual tension high for Mustang. From start until finish he was certain he was going to be thrilled, and things were far from finishing.

At dinner Mustang had swung them through polite and acceptable conversation of work, science, and politics. Ed was a skilled conversationalist when he wanted to be. He was not discrete with his political views, had sharp commanding comments about their social and economic structure, and even more to be said on actual chemistry and alchemy. It took Roy their appetizer to recognize the thrill he was getting was the ability to chase after his guest's conversation. It had been a long time since he did not have to lead, and he tested his waters with considerable influence.

Ed bat at religious comments and controversial topics, but drew the line with graceful redirection away from anything personal. Anything delving into hobbies, and where Ed's time was going after work, and Ed was quick to flip the discussion. Ed was equally as hungry for more than just the food, although he didn't seem to know how to phrase it, and his interest and enjoyment was impossible to hide.

A movie after dinner seemed comfortably cliché and Mustang had waited nearly half of it to begin toying with Ed again. He let Ed choose the movie, although Ed seemed rather disinterested with everything available, and then waited to see what the boy would do. They sat together, toward the secluded back, and when the experience was innocent and conversation less for forty minutes Mustang laid a card to the table.

He lifted his right hand from the armrest of his chair, and deposited it onto Ed's flesh left knee. The move was not hesitant, or romantically light, it was a falling bomb: his palm, Ed's knee. SLAM.

Ed's entire frame flinched with sudden surprise. In the flickering light of the theater screen, Mustang saw Ed's eyes bulge with shock, and drop to the sight of Mustang's hand, before jerking to Mustang's face.

Their gaze met because Mustang was not being subtle, and Ed looked so absolutely flabbergasted his expression was tense as if waiting to sneeze. Something about the intimate touch, _and it was intimate_, seemed to be giving Ed a stationary seizure. Beneath Mustang's palm he felt Ed's body lock up. He was Ammonium Nitrate to Ed's Water, and the boy was hard as ice.

This wasn't exactly the response Mustang had expected, but it was a response still desired. Ed was deliberately doing nothing with the sudden grasp, and even if indirectly, that was approval. Mustang found this absolutely delightful. The situation was noncommittally playful.

Whether or not Ed wanted this directly from him, or whether Ed wanted this type of activity from other men, was inconsequential. At this moment they existed separated from the entire world, and the worldly roles they played. They were two human bodies, with desires, and urges. Any action they saw fit to take, however lustfully blind, was their every right and pleasure.

_Hello,_ Mustang's hand said to Ed's body. _Nice to meet you._

In silence, Ed was more starved and surrendering, than possible with any declaration.

In one fluid gesture, as if petting a cat, Mustang stroked his hand up Ed's thigh until it was dangerously close to the top. He had no idea what side of Ed's pant leg Ed's more intimate appendages were dangling into, and he wasn't yet ready to do something as commanding as grabbing dick in the theater. That was a bit like eating the mouse before you had a chance to chase it.

Mustang slid his hand inward on Ed's leg, so the pads of his fingers traced the inseam of Ed's leather pants, and stroked upward. Ed's muscles jumped, as if Mustang's hand was electric, and Ed tried to handle it gracefully. At the top of Ed's leg, with nothing serious touched, Mustang took his hand away.

_He wasn't ready to put the mouse in his mouth yet._

Ed grunted a quick insulted breath of discomfort, propped his automail onto his rest, and leaned his forehead into the metal palm. This was a mannerism of building stress, and Mustang watched Ed stroke the metal middle finger up his temple, before sending over a fast fleeting glance. The look held insinuation, an almost, _what are you doing? _accusation, but Ed didn't let it hang long enough to be accusation, it dissolved into confused frustration, and then fell apart into submission.

Mustang felt he held the reigns, but now understood he could seize absolute control if he reached out, and that was exactly what he wanted. If they were to do anything, much of it would be under his terms, and he felt this was appropriate not only because Ed was younger and shorter than him, but because he outranked the boy. The bitter truth of the loyal soldier boiled down to what could nastily be portrayed as a master servant relationship, and if Ed wasn't allowed to call the shots in the office, he sure as hell wasn't going to be allowed to call them now.

Mustang slid his hand up to meet the crotch of Ed's pants, and directly before he crossed home plate, the automail hand came down and punched into the theater seat with startling strength and accuracy. It fell like a steel door before the juncture of Ed's legs and the growing erection which was coming to furiously hate leather pants. The action was clear: OFF LIMITS.

Mustang felt blindsided. He went to lift his gaze, questioning, but before he could, Ed stood and left. Ed dropped the bat before he had a change to swing, and with the ball pitching right toward him.

Puzzled, Mustang watched Ed leave the dark theater, and then reviewed the events. Ed had given no sign the touch was undesired until the door was slammed in Mustang's face. Considering the nature of the touch, Ed should have, and would have, known immediately if that touch was undesired. So this meant it was desired, and things had either changed course, or become too intense.

Mustang looked over his shoulder; half certain Ed would return the way he did after pitching fits in the office and storming off. In emotional turmoil Ed often forgot to report thoroughly, ask something he otherwise needed to know, and ten minutes later would return looking sullen and annoyed he couldn't manage all tasks the first time, and had to come crawling back after his dramatic exit.

Was that was this was? A dramatic exit?

Mustang slipped his coat on and left for the deserted theater lobby. He was disappointed things might be ending early, but he had to acknowledge the very high stakes they were playing under. Messing around with your superior officer wasn't exactly encouraged, and Ed would take significant heat, not only from officers, but other soldiers as well. Depending on how far they took things, and how wide spread it became, Ed might have to defend his reputation a bit. Perhaps not so overdone as to apologize, but more or less to apologize to the straight soldiers he had changed and showered with for years. Those Johns would now learn they were harboring someone of that persuasion, and straight guys always assumed everyone not entirely straight took great time and enjoyment from sizing up their dicks. It was nonsensically hypocritical.

Standing near the concessions stand, and smelling nothing but popcorn, Mustang spotted Ed lingering outside the entrance. He was surprised Ed fled entirely. Outdoors the temperature had dropped to low fifties and it was drizzling. In route to the theater they had walked quickly from the car because Ed wanted to avoid it, but now Ed was standing in it.

Mustang turned his collar up and stepped out into the rain where Ed was staring off into the parking lot. Ed ignored his approach. It was well after their dinner, and becoming dark.

With the rain water Ed's bangs were becoming heavy, and he turned to Mustang with a brooding expression of indecision.

Mustang kept his silence. He had not verbalized any type of contract to what they were doing, and Ed had walked away from some of it, but it was clear he wasn't scrapping the project. This was unexpected, and Mustang decided he would wait for Ed to clarify this for him. He wasn't going to drive them blindly, and he had no interest in pressuring people into mutual games.

"Where is your car?" Ed asked, sounding remotely annoyed he couldn't pick it out. The parking lot to the theater was shared with that of several other stores. There were many black cars, and they had arrived in conversation. With Central's mass public transportation system, Ed did not personally own a car, and therefore, unlike experienced car owners, did not make mental note as to where to reclaim his ride.

Mustang pulled his keys from his pocket and dangled them from between two fingers like a prize catch. "Luckily for us, it's where we left it," he teased. Ed looked at the keys before taking a hand from his pocket and gesturing toward the parking lot like a showgirl. The suggestion was clear: _lead the way._

Mustang left down the steps and into the rows of cars. He went easily to his own and slid the key into the driver's side door. He wasn't sure if he were curious as to what stopped everything, or just disappointed it stopped. Ed had arrived for dinner as an appealing willowy young man. The older body Mustang had failed to notice, and certainly the awarded conversation was rather hard to forget. "You calling it a night?" he asked.

"Just open it."

The doors unlocked and Ed entered the back driver's side, and crawled in out of the rain. He slid entirely to the passenger side and left the door open the way someone crawling into a bed tosses the covers back for their partner.

Mustang slid inside and closed the car door behind him. Things were becoming more than interesting, and he glanced about the vacant parking lot while wiping some of the dampness from his face. This was a bit more voyeurism than he was used to.

Ed gave his head a quick offended shake with the water, and slapped at his shoulders and jacket to free clinging droplets.

"So Ed," Mustang said, sitting in wait. "You have something in mind?"

Ed ignored the question. He was pulling the glove off his left hand by plucking up the fabric on each finger. Then he dropped it to his lap and looked over. His expression was one Mustang could not read, but it was one of deep concentration, as if their entire night was a crossword puzzle that still had too many blanks.

"I felt kind of weird with…" Ed dropped his hands to his thighs and rubbed them downward to his knees uneasily. "…all those people around," Ed said softly. Mustang did not understand how an open parking lot made things better. The theater had been dark and distracting for people wanting to see the movie. Mustang watched Ed rub his thighs, the action seemed distracted, like a nervous tic. He was just about to address it when Ed turned to him, quickly, and pressed their lips together.

The action could more accurately be described as an attack. Ed's mouth hit Mustang's first, but Ed's flesh hand snatched Mustang's lapel directly after, keeping them together.

With absolute surprise, Mustang didn't even move. Ed was kissing him, and trying incredibly hard to do so in a dramatic way, that was entirely amateur. It was so entirely unprompted, and Ed was fumbling with his mouth so badly, Mustang was half expecting Ed to leap back at any second, and look afraid of what he'd done. Instead, Ed attacked Mustang's coat, and ripped it open for access to Mustang's dress shirt.

Mustang leaned back, and Ed stopped his kissing. His interest went entirely to unbuttoning Mustang's shirt without a single word, and Mustang was speechless. Ed was trying to open the shirt with skill for buttons that bordered on the autistic. The automail fingers seemed too unstable, and the flesh weren't fairing much better. Ed's fierce determination felt more like being mauled than being intimate, and slowly Mustang reached for Ed's face and cupped the boy's jaw in his hand. _They didn't have to be so rushed about things._

"Ed," he said softly, wanting to communicate this without insulting Ed's speed. If this is how Ed did things, he didn't want to stop entirely by suggesting they slow down.

Ed grabbed Mustang's shirt, and untucked it in a fast yank. Directly afterward he ripped it open spraying the buttons, and Mustang startled. "I'll fix it with alchemy later," Ed said, descending on Mustang's exposed chest as he spoke. He leaned into it as if he were leaning into a pie, and began kissing.

Physically, Mustang was not opposed to people kissing his body as foreplay, but this seemed rather affectionate, and it worried him. Messing around was one thing, but Ed seemed to have an agenda he was eliminating like a check list.

With thoughts of uncertainty brewing, the idea Ed might not know what he was doing, or how to do it, bloomed just as Ed began licking above Mustang's belly button, and Mustang turned his focus to that. Edward was a grown boy, and could make his own decisions. No matter how inexperienced, a young beautiful boy was kissing down his body and trying to undress him. If life had taught Mustang anything, it was never to be stupid enough to stop a good thing.

"Okay Ed," Mustang said. He still had a partial hold on Ed's face and he slid his hand up into the boy's hair. The top of Ed's strains were wet from the rain, but those below were soft and warm. Ed's hair was sleek, with texture, and availability absent from male short hair. It was a joy to touch. With Mustang ghosting his hand through it with appreciation, Ed moved. Shifting easily from the back seat to kneel on the floor.

Ed grabbed Mustang's belt, and Mustang grinned with the eager excitement and satisfaction that always came right before you received something nice. They didn't need to talk for him to understand he was going to be on the receiving end of a blow job. Despite Ed's novice kissing, even if it was a novice suck, Mustang felt certain watching Ed do it would be enough for him to shoot his load. Ed's petite frame was little more than black clothing, a blonde head, and a face of smooth skin and amorous eyes, opening wide between his legs. Hell, watching the boy give himself a hand job would probably be enough. Ed's physical appeal was strong, and Mustang was stimulated watching the boy.

Ed jerked Mustang's buckle apart rather harshly, and unbuttoned Mustang's pants with the same lack of skill. His automail hand was interfering with unzipping Mustang's fly, and seemed to be struggling with fine motor control. Irritated Ed quickly switched to his flesh, and briefly rested the metal hand and wrist on Mustang's abs. The fly came down in one quick yank, but when Ed curled his automail hand downward the wrist joint caught Mustang's skin and pinched.

Mustang flinched, and moved the metal hand, before reaching dowered to protect his valuables from any damage.

Ed launched back as soon as his automail was touched. "Hey okay," Ed said quickly, averting his eyes to the side and placing space between them. The change was as extreme as a light turning off. All at once Ed was done, and sat back on the passenger side. "I—well I guess I was getting mixed signals." Ed gave an uncomfortable shrug, unable to make eye contact, and looking unbelievably uncomfortable he was just shoved off. He hadn't felt the pinch of Mustang's skin, the only thing that had spoken strongly to him was Mustang suddenly blocking him from his target, and moving the metal hand off his body.

"It's okay," Mustang said kindly. He wasn't offended he had been pinched. Things happened. Ed lifted a hand and began rubbing at the back of his neck while staring into his lap. "Ed, it's fine," Mustang reassured. Ed made for a glance at Mustang, but the move was too quick to complete the act, and Mustang felt sympathetic. Ed looked so incredibly uncomfortable it was more appropriate part of him be on fire. He was fidgeting with the automail fingers and didn't want to look up.

"I was misunderstanding things," Ed said quickly, sounding apologetic.

"Well…" Mustang gave a brief shrug. He wasn't bothered by his half dressed state, and he found Ed's new show of intense nervousness growing in appeal. At first it seemed a bit of a deterrent, but now it was becoming cute. The great Full Metal Alchemist, young novice that he was, was so entranced; he was tripping over his own feet trying to seduce the Flame Alchemist. _This was a high compliment._ "It's seems a bit rushed." Mustang thought this would be obvious to them both.

Ed grunted a soft sound of miserable insult and said nothing. He turned his eyes to the rain spattered window and stared out at the shadowed lumps of cars.

Mustang kept his silence and his confidence. From spying he knew Ed was attracted to him, and with Ed's apparent lack of skill, the broken eye contact, snotty remarks, and great effort to keep them mentally joined, but physically separated all throughout dinner became clearer to Mustang. _Ed flirted like a five year old._ This was much like dating a grade school child who pulled your hair and poked you to be noticed. Obnoxious remora, these traits were innocently sweet, and curious, this also seemed to imply Ed might harbor emotions seeking something semblant of a real relationship. _The type of relationship a quick blow in the back of car suggested he did not want._ With Ed staring out the window, Mustang tried to consider if Ed had the sense to actually form a real relationship. He seemed capable of handling one with Alphonse, so it seemed plausible Ed would be capable of having one romantically.

A soft tapping broke Mustang's thoughts and he looked to Ed's automail hand. It was trembling badly, and the metal fingers were rattling against one another. Ed looked down at it, and snatched it defensively. "Yeah, wow…my hands shake sometimes," Ed said, burying the hand in his lap. "It's nothing, doesn't mean I am nervous, just...circulation, and...you should ignore it if it happens." Ed moved his gaze to the car floor and gave his head a quick dismissive shake. "Just…ignore it." Ed's inexperience was captivating, and Mustang reached over and touched the boy's hair. Tenderly he tucked a strand behind Ed's ear.

Ed looked up slowly, and the curious expression made Mustang smile. "Try slower Fullmetal." He leaned in and closed his mouth about the tip of Ed's ear.

Ed shifted with caution, when Mustang leaned in, before smiling when he felt the tender bite to his ear. Mustang sucked the tip of Ed's ear inward and nibbled on the soft delicate flap. It felt practically newborn.

With building desire Mustang pressed his face flush to the side of Ed's, and Ed spoke. His words were low and hard to understand, but the tone was appreciative so Mustang ignored them. He slid his nose to Ed's temple and kissed several times. Ed responded with excitement, and wearing a wide sleepy grin, turned to face Mustang, and Mustang took Ed's lips. He wanted a chance to kiss the boy properly, but Ed was trying to participate and ruining what could have been enjoyable with awkward movements. Gracefully Mustang bailed, and moved to Ed's neck. He kissed down and tugged Ed's collar away from his skin to get inside.

A breath of exhilaration escaped Ed when Mustang did this, and Mustang took it as a good sign. Ed's hands were still shaking, and Ed was clutching them together in his lap to both stop them and hide them.

"Are our hands going to be okay?" Mustang asked. He stopped his kissing and sat back.

Ed nodded, rolling his shoulders to toss this topic aside. "Yeah fine. Ignore them."

"You're sure you wanted to come out here?" Mustang asked. Ed muttered his consent quickly while sliding back to Mustang's side and returning to Mustang's chest. Ed began soft feather like kisses, and Mustang understood this was Ed trying to move slower. The reckless and inelegant drive of Edward's momentum was still present, but was now restrained. He could tell Ed wanted to be fast and aggressive, but the boy was trying hard to be pleasing and follow his orders. "Have you done this before?" Mustang asked. Ed didn't answer and kissed down to Mustang's navel. Ed's secretive nature made Mustang nervous. He found the idea this might be the first time Ed lured someone to a car preposterous considering Ed had actually done so, and been so bold as to do so with a Colonel, but the way Ed ignored the question worried him. "Ed, are you a virgin?"

Without looking up Ed answered a small and quick, "No," and the kissing continued.

"No?" Mustang was surprised.

"No," Ed said, becoming irritated and strengthening his tone. Mustang silenced, it wasn't his business. Ed assumed this question meant things were going further and took his jacket off while he was kissing.

Mustang took a good look at the automail shoulder that came into view, and then something he hardly saw: the scars. They were deep, and he knew they were painful, and recognized them from the battlefield.

Mustang reached forward to help Ed take off the thin tank top he was wearing, but Ed's kissing stopped.

"I was…" Ed said softly, speaking into Mustang's stomach. "I was going to keep it on."

"Are you shy?" Mustang teased.

"No!" Ed sat back shaking his head. "No, just...since it's raining it's…well it's cold. If it's okay I'll…just wear this then." Ed didn't sound certain he could, and seemed to be searching for a truce. Mustang found this a bit confusing. It wasn't normal to peel buck naked in the back of a car, and he wasn't suggesting they do so, but Ed seemed worried keeping his shirt might cause things to stop.

"That's fine," Mustang said, a bit perplexed. "Do what you're most comfortable with." That was Ed's right after all.

Ed studied Mustang's face with something that looked like skepticism and sexual bewilderment, before moving on, and beginning to unfasten his own belt.

"Wait a second," Mustang said. Ed stopped and looked up. "I'll need to step out and get some things." His car wasn't exactly prepared for this type of behavior no matter how unopposed to it he was.

"What do you mean?" Ed asked, with a tone of rising defenses.

Mustang gave Ed a grin. "You know," he said. He reached into the front and slid his keys into the transmission. "Turn the car on if you get cold. I'll just walk to the nearest convenient store." He gestured over his shoulder to the strip mall where the theater was, and Ed glanced to it with the same look of worried confusion. Roy pulled his coat together and corrected his pants and shirt, as much as it could be without the buttons. "Do you have any preference?"

Ed looked down to his belt and fastened it slowly. "Um," Ed muttered, correcting his pants before scooting back to sit more comfortably. "For what?"

Mustang slid to the door and took hold of the handle. "Lubricant," he said dryly. "I don't have any condoms in the car, and since I am going, I think it would probably be a good idea if I got some." They hadn't been together before and there was a difference in size. He would be more comfortable using something purchased than something generated just to be on the safe side.

"I don't have anything," Ed said defensively, looking annoyed. "I am clean."

Ed was a scientist, and a rather talented alchemist. Mustang would have bet money on the fact whatever sexual endeavors Ed was enjoying, he was practicing with precaution, but this naive statement made him laugh. "But you don't know that I am," Mustang said, opening the door and stepping out. "I'll just get something standard." He shut the door, and turned to leave, before pausing. He opened the door again and leaned back in.

Ed looked perplexed, but Mustang gave Ed a smile and said, "Come here." He beckoned Ed forward, but Ed sat frowning, like a bump on a log, and didn't move. "Come here," Mustang repeated, beginning to laugh kindly.

Ed slid cautiously to the open door, and quickly, so there could be no argument, Mustang grasped the tip of Ed's chin, and left a chaste kiss on Ed's lips. Ed smiled into the kiss, and Mustang didn't need to see Ed's face to feel the boy melting. He made mental note: _Ed liked kisses the most._

Mustang left in a quick walk through the rain with his hands in his pockets and his head ducked down contemplating what he was doing, and what he was about to do. There was no real complication to it; they were going to have sex in his car. They had both already decided to do it. Ed was ready and willing enough, and overall incredibly casual about the entire thing. This was a bit surprising. Mustang had always assumed Fullmetal wouldn't be into something as quick as a fuck in the back of a car, but Ed owned this ballet.

He purchased a single tube of something much lighter and gentler than he would normally have bought. Ed had fair skin and hair, and he wanted something that would be kind, without any lingering irritation or discomfort. Carrying a small package of condoms, and tiny bottle of a water based lubricant back to the car, he realized, with a bit of excitement, that he never imagined he'd sleep with Ed, and when trying to envision it, he certainly wouldn't have bet it would be this soon. Years down the road maybe, after Ed had been around longer, and learned the real politics of it. When the boy was of age they might get drinks sometime, or share a cigarette and one night let the old times, or the good times, or the healthy aggression of a good card game take them somewhere else. What was about to happen today seemed a bit raunchy. Ed was young, tight, lithe, and would have a sexual appetite that wouldn't be higher for the rest of his life. Getting the boy half naked in the backseat of his car for a good plugging was something right out of a high school date movie, and Mustang was grinning as he hurried back.

It was now raining steadily. It was a light summer rain that looked harmless, but left everything drenched, and the car had droplets clinging to every window.

Mustang could see Ed waiting in the backseat rubbing his right shoulder as he approached. He climbed in quickly, and Ed had removed his boots and sat curled up in his leather pants, tank top, and socks. "That was quick," Ed said.

Mustang ran a hand through his hair to knock aside the loose drops and the moisture spiked it up. He fished into his pocket and handed Ed the package of condoms. "You okay with these?" he asked, shrugging out of his coat.

Ed looked at the box as if it were written in a foreign language before averting his eyes to the front windshield. "Is…" Ed began softly, ignoring Mustang who sat back with a heavy sigh. "…if there isn't a reason we should use these…do you mind if we don't?"

"Do_ I_ mind?" Mustang asked, breaking a quick laugh. "Have you ever had sex without one?" He meant this rhetorically, but Ed looked over quickly, as if put on the spot. Mustang held up his hand to silence whatever Ed would divulge. Again, it wasn't his business, and he wasn't trying to pry. "It's always better without. If you're okay with it, you have my scout's honor there's nothing you'll catch from me." Ed dropped his gaze to the condom box and, tapping it absently into his flesh hand, grunted a soft breath of approval. "Is your shoulder bothering you?" Mustang asked, looking at the slight tremble still lingering in the automail.

Ed gave a shake of his head and dropped the condom box to the car floor before looking over. He slid to Mustang's side, and ran his hand onto the man's knee. Mustang was riveted with the idea they were going to do this bare back. "Can we kiss some more?" Ed asked softly.

Mustang leaned in and planted a soft one on Ed's cheek. That was all the green light Ed needed. Immediately he wrapped his arms about Mustang's head, and Mustang grabbed Ed's waist and gripped tight to Ed's pelvic bone. Ed's slender hips were incredibly attractive to him. He loved the toothpick of Ed's body. There was muscle where Ed needed it, and his features and development were undeniably male, but Ed was tiny. Ed would be adorable beneath him.

Mustang locked their lips and pushed forward, knocking Ed back with careful force so Ed fell to his back on the seat. He climbed over the boy, kissing hungrily, and Ed racked his hands down Mustang's back with each finger digging in like a cat. Ed was aroused and Mustang could feel the fierce heat of passion rising up from Ed's body. _He loved it._ With them conducting only the most basic form of foreplay Ed's extreme arousal was a dead giveaway he was not overly experienced, and Mustang was thrilled. He knew he was a good sexual partner, but having this blushing young boy under him made him feel like a god. Hungrily he reached down and gripped Ed's arousal through his pants. Ed twitched so heavily his entire body jerked with surprise. For a moment Ed lifted his legs with a bit of alarm, as if the touch were invasive, before immediately thrusting his hips upward for more, because it felt great.

Mustang broke the kiss. "You're so hard." He loved it. Ed had a blush staining both his cheeks and he looked embarrassed he wanted it so bad, but had no idea how to hide it. "I love it." Mustang meant this sincerely, and Ed cracked a pleased smile that was almost giddy. "Let's get your pants off."

"Okay." Ed nodded.

Mustang sat back and began opening Ed's belt. He unzipped Ed's fly and Ed reached down and helped loosen his waist band. The leather was clingy, and Ed slipped his fingers in and helped separate his pants from his boxers. Mustang pulled carefully. He didn't want to yank Ed's pants off and send the message he was, but without some strength Ed's pants simply didn't move.

"You can't possibly need that belt to keep these up," Mustang said, taking Ed's pants to his knees.

"I don't." Ed left it at that. He reached down to continue stripping his pants and the automail knee lifted and caught Mustang's attention.

Ed's left leg was a mutation of human and machine. All about the infrastructure Ed's skin was scared and burned as if the automail was a metal monster that had gobbled upward starting at Ed's toes and becoming full slightly past his knee. Its damage distorted Ed's skin into fat vein-like swells, and cascades of smooth print less flesh, to the effect of a burn victim.

The sight was intense, but Mustang had seen bullets and blades rip through the meat of men in war. He had been present when the wounds were fatal, and when they were only excruciating. Barely old enough to drink, he had pressed his own dirty palms over a fallen soldier's exposed stomach to help keep the blood inside until a medic arrived. In many ways, a flesh wound like Ed's felt like a dish of lasagna, and your fingers could sink right into the sauce and flimsy noodles of flesh. In Ishval, Mustang remembered grabbing a downed man's side when shrapnel took out a piece of him, and believed he could feel organ's trying to slip through his fingers. For a moment, he became lost in the memory, staring, but unseeing, at Ed's scars, until Ed moved his flesh knee over the automail to hide it from sight.

Mustang lifted his gaze with a few blinks, severed from his thoughts, and Ed was staring back with an accusatory glare. His expression had tightened with intense self conscious concern, and sounding more than a little annoyed, Ed asked, "_What?_"

"Nothing," Mustang whispered. He leaned down to Ed's stomach and kissed directly below Ed's belly button. He wanted his momentary lapse forgotten, and for a boy who had never seen anything more awful than his own shoulder and thigh, he understood the self-conscious zit fearing embarrassment his staring might bring. He took Ed's leather pants, sat up, and tossed them to the floor.

Ed watched this before bringing his hands to his boxers. For a moment Ed hesitated, and then with a quick swallow of bravado, he pushed them to his knees and tried to roll over.

Mustang stopped this. He laid a hand on Ed's hip and coaxed Ed to his back. "It's fine," he said. "This way is fine." Ed looked confused and tugged at the bottom of his tank top which was politely keeping most of him covered despite his erection. "Half hidden like this, it's an absolute tease," Mustang said, sliding his hands down Ed's thighs and cupping beneath Ed's knees. Slowly, and with respect, he slid Ed's boxers off Ed's flesh leg, and left them about the metal ankle. Then he lifted Ed's legs and settled comfortably between. "There'll be enough room like this." Ed looked nervous with his placement, but didn't speak. He watched Mustang dig into his pocket with a bit of concern. "I bought a really light oil." Mustang handed over the small lubricant and Ed took it looking humiliated, like he were being handed a laxative. "You okay with that?" Mustang felt the desire to ask. It was Ed's body, and he didn't want to make all the decisions about what went inside it. He was already making fifty percent of that contribution.

"It's fine," Ed said, closing his hand around the tiny bottle to hide it. Ed ran his automail over his red face and lifted his gaze to the ceiling.

"Good," Mustang said softly. He slid his hand down the back of Ed's thigh and gently traced his fingers up the bottom of Ed's balls before gently taking hold of Ed's erection. Ed's body responded as if he'd stabbed Ed's crotch. Ed's legs jerked and his hand shot out and grabbed Mustang's at the speed of light. Mustang laughed. "So feisty," he teased. "Open that."

Ed was hanging onto Mustang's gripping hand with a twisted expression of anguished pleasure. His brow was beginning to sweat, and his face was a stove top. Both of Ed's hands were still shaking, and Roy could feel the vibration through Ed's grip. With the command, Ed glanced at his closed fist holding the lubricant. "I'll put most of it on my end," Mustang said, lowering his voice. He was trying to make discussion like this as sensual as he could while still getting it out of the way.

Ed quickly opened the bottle and extended it in one hand and the cap in the other. Mustang took the bottle. "You keep that part," he said, nodding to the cap. In an exaggerated lift he raised the bottle over Ed's groin and tipped it. He did this slowly, like he were preparing to fill a glass of wine, but Ed flinched and lifted his hips evasively.

"No," Ed said, blushing full throttle, and looking disgusted with this idea.

Mustang stopped with surprise. "I was just going to drizzle a little on." He had a strong desire to get Ed messy. To marinate Ed and rub it around, but Ed looked frightened with this. "But we don't have to." Mustang adjusted the bottle and poured some onto his right hand so he could grease up his fingers. "You're going to like me Ed," he said, getting his pointer finger wet and shiny. "I am going to feel great." He lowered his hand between Ed's legs and let his digit tickle down from Ed's balls to his ass. Ed's legs shuddered and he grunted a quick noise of uncertain arousal. Carefully Mustang singled out his finger and pressed it inward.

Ed grabbed his face with his automail, covering his eyes and gritting his teeth. His body was shaking and Mustang loved it. "I want to roll over," Ed croaked, reaching to the side and fisting the seat. Mustang pressed until his finger was embedded and Ed tipped his head up and his reflection appeared in the car window.

Mustang's finger felt mortifyingly invasive, but also unbelievably good! It was the most contradicting sensation Ed thought he'd ever felt, and he was struggling to categorize it when Mustang began pressing his second finger inside. This one felt very different from the first. Instead of the smooth slow entrance, it appeared, and then the sensation of the finger was overshadowed by the sudden onslaught of pain it brought. Ed muffled a small, "Ah," and Mustang felt Ed's muscles clamp down.

"Don't tighten," Mustang warned, forcing his second digit in. Ed's hand closed around the cap, and his legs slid an inch apart. "Just let it in, you'll like." Mustang imagined Ed had to love it. If Ed was familiar with this, and comfortable as a bottom, then for Ed this would be another form of a blow job. He slid his fingers in, keeping them slippery and gave Ed a few gentle strokes. "How is it?" he asked, reaching to Ed's erection and wrapping his hand back around it. Again Ed startled, and he turned his head to the side breathing heavily.

"I want to roll over." Ed arched his hips to do so, but Mustang stopped this. He couldn't get to Ed's erection if Ed was laying on it. Carefully he withdrew his fingers and Ed's body went limp with relief. Ed let out a quick breath and broke into a fast series of pants while rubbing at his face. Mustang quickly began oiling his fingers again. He didn't want Ed to have to wait for him, but the minute he released the boy, Ed was again trying to roll over.

Once more Mustang pressed Ed flat, but this time Ed became mad. He lifted his head and looked down at Mustang, and the irritation was evident in his face. "You want to be on your stomach?" Mustang asked, perplexed.

"Yes I do." Ed was angry he was being prevented, and Mustang backed up to give Ed room. This position was less fun for him, but Ed seemed relieved. Immediately he situated himself on his stomach and became nothing more than a skinny body in a disheveled tank top above a tense and scrawny ass. Ed felt incredibly vulnerable laying almost naked in wait for additional probing. His muscles were tense with anxiety, and he slid his hand to the seat buckle and took hold seeking comfort and support.

Mustang watched this and became a bit unsettled. Ed looked as if he were preparing to be mercilessly pounded. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Getting cold," Ed snapped. Mustang didn't know how to take this, and sat rubbing his oiled fingers together until Ed glanced back. "I just want to be on my stomach right now, keep going." Ed tried to erase Mustang's growing doubts as best he could. "I am fine; I just wanted to change positions." Mustang moved closer, preparing to continue, and leaned down to Ed's rear. It was just as small as the rest of him and he kissed the top of Ed's right cheek while stroking his hands up the boy's thighs. Ed had settled into position, but looked back the moment he felt this. "Are you," Ed lifted his head to see better, "are you kissing my ass?" Ed sounded as if he were going to laugh, and Mustang smiled. "You realize I won't let this go later on." Ed broke a bright grin and Mustang chuckled. He leaned upward to Ed's face and took the boy's mouth again. Ed's spiteful sassy nature was what he recognized, and kissing Ed he slid his finger back inside.

Ed shifted, greeted again with the intense arousal this penetration brought him. He lifted his hips, and pressed himself back on Mustang's finger. He was trying to suck the man's tongue and enjoy things when Mustang's second finger appeared. This one still hurt badly, and Ed recoiled to the seat. He broke the kiss and pressed his face into his metal arm keeping his discomfort silent. Mustang worked both fingers in and rubbed Ed a few times before adding his third.

This one felt like a fire poker, and Ed jerked upward with the natural instinct to escape, before forcing himself to stay still.

"Ed, if you purposely tighten yourself up like this when we're together, I might not be able to last," Mustang teased, working his fingers in a steady rhythm. He was certain Ed must be clamping his muscles because the boy was simply too tight. He did this until he felt satisfied, and could move relatively freely, before pulling his fingers free. Ed made a small sound with the retraction, and then sprawled out panting.

Mustang sat back and slouched down in the back seat. He began opening his pants and his erection was painful. The car made moving difficult, and because Ed was a new partner, Mustang didn't want to have too many different things happening at one time. This left his erection neglected, and Ed sat up slowly with him unzipping his fly. The best position for the car was Ed in his lap, and he beckoned for Ed to come.

Ed kept his deep wince hidden. His rear felt like someone was trying to clean his chimney, and he reached back for a quick rub. Mustang's fingers had made the inside of him burn terribly, but the man was unfazed.

Mustang opened his pants and pushed them to his knees. "Come here," Mustang said, reaching to Ed's arm and helping him up. He adjusted his pants so they wouldn't restrain his movements and pulled Ed to his side. "Cars can make it difficult," he said, giving Ed a quick smile. Ed looked incredibly embarrassed with them both half dressed and gave his lips an uneasy lick before leaning to Mustang's face and kissing his jaw line. "Ed, I never would have imagined you were such a cuddler."

Ed pulled back. "I am not a cuddler," Ed said defensively. "I am trying to…" Ed trialed off, looking uncertain of what he was trying to do.

"If you're trying to make it excruciatingly hard to be patient, you're doing a great job," Mustang said, pulling Ed's arm over his lap so Ed's body had to follow. Ed obliged before sneaking a curious look at Mustang's plumbing and slipping with shock there was such a difference between them. "You sure your arm is okay?" Mustang asked, when Ed's trembling suddenly became worse. Ed ignored this and sat back onto Mustang's lap a bit awkwardly. He managed to find a comfortable spot for them both, facing the front of the car, and Mustang was surprised. "You want to face away from me?" Mustang wasn't expecting this, but Ed nodded. Mustang would have preferred Ed face him. "I never imagine you'd be so mechanical with sex. You like things like that?"

Ed flinched with irritation and looked back over his shoulder. He gave Mustang a disgusted look, but then shrugged the question off. "Yes?" Ed didn't sound certain, but continued anyway. He slid himself back so his body was plenty accessible and leaned to the seat in front of him.

Ed fit perfectly, and Mustang was surprised with the lack of weight. Ed wrapped his arms about the front passenger seat, as if to hug it, and waited. Quickly Mustang lubricated himself, stroking as little as possible. With Ed sitting on him half naked and ready, he didn't want to stimulate himself anymore than he had to. He was revving to go when he angled himself to Ed's ass and held them together without merging.

"Do you want me to do anything in particular?" he asked, sounding winded with his breath picking up with excitement.

Ed shifted his weight a bit uncomfortably. "Whatever."

Mustang didn't understand this answer, so he began their union. "Just let me know if you do." He held his cock with his right hand, and kept Ed's hip locked in his left. With Ed held in place he used his hips to get himself inside and didn't let himself go until he was half way in. Ed seemed too tight to be human, and half way in he had to stop. "Dammit, you're tight," he said, voice strained with the sensation of it. It felt like he was feeding his prick into a keyhole. "I might have to stop," he said, a bit worried about going in any further.

"I am fine," Ed snapped, sounding angry. "Don't stop."

"Ah, I am going to have to start slow." That was the best he could do. "You're just too tight. Stop clenching, I appreciate the torture, but I yield." He tried to get in another inch and Ed, who had been rock hard and perfectly still, moved for the first time, and flinched forward toward the seat. "Stay still," Mustang said panting. "Holy shit—damn Ed." Ed was sending waves of pleasure back through him. "What speed do you like?" He asked, groaning out his words as he connected them. "Are you…adjusted okay?" He slid in to the hilt through use of force and paused. "What speed?" Ed was arching his back and had begun the quick bursting exhales of a heavy jogger. "Ed?"

"N-normal," Ed croaked. Mustang pulled himself back an inch and Ed's frame shuddered.

"Normal?"

"Average."

Mustang slouched down a bit further and began a moderate pace. It took two minutes to loosen them up, and with some more lubricant Ed was moving smoother. Mustang's hips found a rhythm and with his eyes closed he thrust in and out of heat and warmth until he felt his climax coming. Ed was amazing. Without the condom, and so tight, each stroke was incredible. Ed's body was soft and pliable, and Mustang tried to remember to roam his hands about and grope, but the intensity of their sex was almost overpowering. Towards the end he rolled his hips a few times, and Ed startled a sound of surprise, but didn't complain. Mustang was fast at the finale, rocking Ed forward and thrusting up with power until he felt his body tightened and white specks hit his vision. He came with Ed pressed flush to his pelvis and Ed convulsed heavily with the ejaculation.

Directly afterward Mustang collapsed back panting. Ed stayed put, hanging onto the front seat, breathing heavily, and entirely silent. Feeling pleased Mustang ran a hand down his face, wiping off the bit of sweat and collecting himself. They had fogged the back windows and he reached to the door and rolled his down an inch. This action startled Ed, and he tried to climb off before freezing with uncertainty when he realized they were still connected.

Mustang grasped Ed's hips and helped him rise. He dislodged, and Ed grunted with discomfort, and moved quickly to the back driver's side. Ed sat down at a speed that said he wanted, or needed, to rest, but connected with the seat gingerly.

"That was good," Mustang said, letting his breathing return to normal. Ed kept himself politely covered with his tank top and scooped his pants up from the floor. They began correcting themselves.

Mustang cleaned himself up and pulled on his pants with Ed working back into his. Ed put himself together quickly and was tying a boot when there was a brief flash of lightning. Ed looked at the window with immediate dismay, as if just now noticing rain. It had become a steady downpour while they were busy.

"What's wrong?" Mustang asked.

Ed bristled with the question and returned his gaze to his boots. "Didn't think it would rain so long."

"I can drive you somewhere if you planned on walking." Ed nodded, lacing up his boot. "You…" Mustang trailed off. He wanted to remind Ed he didn't need to leave, but that seemed obvious. "You want to get going?" he asked. Ed might have plans this could be interrupting. Ed slid his automail into his second boot and nodded.

Mustang finished dressing and moved to the driver's seat. When Ed was finished he took the passenger's side and they drove in silence. Ed kept his gaze out the window watching the wet city pass by. The sidewalks had cleared of people, and the sound of it falling with the pattern of the windshield wipers was comforting.

Ed spoke after nearly ten minutes. "Was it good for you?"

Mustang turned into the barracks and gave Ed a smile. "Yes." He ignored the few ways it could have been better. All in all it was good. Sex was always good.

He pulled the curb before Ed's building and Ed muttered a small, "Good."

"Was it good for you?"

Ed opened the door and grunted as if this were a stupid question. "Of course." He gave a small wave and shut the door. Mustang watched Ed duck down and jog toward his building.

Good, it was good for them both. That was the way sex was supposed to be. Mustang watched Ed pull the heavy entrance door to his building open and run it. Ed's brief exit had brought in the smell of the dampness and wet grass, and it cleared out what little there was of Ed.

Now that Ed was gone, that clearing smell was the only testimony to what they had done. Thinking back, Mustang tried to remember if Ed had said anything, or really, made any noise while he was riding the boy. It was hard to remember what Ed was doing while he was enjoying himself, but it wasn't like him not to know. He wasn't that selfish he could go through the act oblivious to the other person. Was it possible with Ed deliberately tightening his muscles so it felt like he was fucking a vice, he got lost in it all?

Mustang turned the car off and comfortably looped his arm behind the headrest of the passenger seat thinking. There wasn't a single sexual encounter he could recall in which he didn't remember what his partner was doing. Ed had seemed a bit modest, and also seemed rather systematic and cold with sex, so maybe Ed was the silent type. He'd barely gotten to see the boy's dick, and Ed wasn't as responsive to him touching it as he thought Ed would be. Ed also didn't show aggressive interest in wanting to touch his, so maybe Ed's interests were other places. Ed did have the automail, maybe he had a quirky fetish he hid.

There was another brief flash of without thunder. The hour made the flicker of light extreme even though the storm was far away. Listening to the rain Mustang tried to remember what Ed was doing after sex. Ed was still rather mute. He couldn't even remember the boy cleaning himself. This meant either Ed felt uncomfortable being watched cleaning seman off himself, or he hadn't gotten off. _That couldn't be right. _

Mustang felt immediate disagreement and worry when this thought bloomed. All at once it seemed preposterous they could have made-it in the back of the car without Ed getting off, but also haunting was the thought that might have happened. Feeling ambushed Mustang reviewed the course of the evening. He had invited Ed to dinner, they had sought out a movie, he made a move, Ed brought them to the car, Ed put on the moves, Ed had wanted it. He never protested, clearly set himself up for sex, and went through with it. It had to be Ed's logical eccentric way that was bugging him, and who was he to judge that!

Mustang began drumming his fingers on the back of the headrest. They had been mechanical, and Ed said he liked it that way, but something left a bad taste in Mustang's mouth. _Something wasn't adding up_. His drumming fingers beat harder, covering more of the head rest and that's when he felt a wet patch. He stopped drumming and slid his palm over the wet area. Ed had dampened his car. Curious, he slid his hand downward, to where Ed's arms and shoulders had been. Ed could have been sweating hard enough he dampened the car, but it was dry. The wet patch was small, contained, and directly where Ed's face had been.

Mustang froze when he realized this, and suddenly it felt like he put his finger right on it. _Lies_. He pulled his hand back and his fingertips were damp. If Ed wasn't sweating, then he must have been crying. _Did he cry the entire time?_

Mustang had once taken a shot of black rum known as The Beast. It had a picture of the mythical Kraken on the bottle and it hit his stomach like napalm. Now, alone in the car, he'd swear he just swallowed a glass. He felt a hot explosion of panic, and inside of it anger. _What kind of shit did Ed just feed him? What really just happened?_

Angrily Mustang turned the engine and swerved into a parking spot before leaving the car with a hard slam of the door. His head felt foggy with the details of what exactly was making him furious, but he was certain that was what he felt. As if he were tricked! If anyone had the knack for pulling the wool over his eyes temporarily, it was Ed, and he stormed into the building and up to the second floor. _He was going to the Elric dorm._ He felt lied to, and he was going to demand Ed report to him on this, the way Ed had to report on other things, so he could straighten out what happened and take whatever action he thought was necessary. At the top of the stairs he hung a quick right into Ed's hall and froze on sight of Ed standing in the middle of it.

Mustang stopped, caught off guard and feeling unprepared with his thoughts not a hundred percent collected, before shrinking back around the corner with curiosity. Ed was standing in front of his own door, staring at it, in heated mental debate.

Slowly Ed ran a stressed hand through his hair, before tugging about the bottom of his shirt to straighten it. Next he pet down his chest as if brushing away dirt, and rolled his shoulders uneasily. _Ed was preparing to enter his own place!_ With a deep breath Ed grasped the door handle, before cursing when it was locked. He fished his key from his pocket and delicately, like a thief trying to seduce a safe, slid it home and carefully turned it.

Ed was sneaking into his own apartment, and Mustang couldn't figure out why. Once Ed disappeared inside, Mustang crept forward after him. Ed had shut the door but left it unlocked, and Mustang glanced into the peep-hole before slowly turning the handle. _He wanted to know what was going on. _

He opened the door an inch and was about to knock when Ed passed by from inside. Ed was rubbing his face and walked quickly to the couch.

Ed sat down carefully, as if lowering himself onto glass, and leaned his head into his hands. He had turned on the lights as he entered, and Alphonse awoke from the dark bedroom and called to him.

"Nii-san?" Ed looked up, and Alphonse emerged in a loose boot camp tee shirt, blue plaid pajamas pants, and his hair a rat's nest. "Nii-san, you're home later than I thought you'd be."

"Yeah." Ed waived this off, and Alphonse padded over happily.

"Breda stopped by," Alphonse said, scratching at his stomach. "He brought his home made jerky you love." Alphonse stopped at Ed's side grinning, and sung, "So how did you _date_ go nii-san?" Alphonse emphasized the word date by dragging out the letter A: _Daaaaate._ Ed didn't answer and simply flopped one of his hands in a gesture too weak to even wave the topic off. It was shaking before the move, and shaking well after, and Alphonse looked at this with confusion. "Nii-san, why is your hand shaking like that?" Alphonse stepped closer, and Ed abandoned the posture of one with a severe migraine, and curled his hands into his lap to hold them.

"They're not shaking," Ed said quickly. Alphonse's expression contorted with irritated confusion and without looking up Ed seemed to feel it, and quickly added. "I mean, it's nothing, I don't know, poor circulation."

Alphonse was annoyed, and he exclaimed a fast, "What?" that suggested Ed's comment was garbage. He gave Ed's shoulder an irritated and painless smack, and said, "Don't lie, that's stupid."

Mustang's eyes widened. _The first lie was coming out! _

Alphonse took a step closer, and like a bloodhound suddenly catching scent, all of his mannerisms changed at once. The annoyance disappeared, the sleepy hostility faded, and replacing it all, came sensitive unthreatening traits of building concern. "Nii-san," Alphonse said, lowering his voice to a near whisper. "What happened to you?" Alphonse bent at the waist, lowering to find Ed's line of sight. "Why are you shaking like this? What's that odd smell on you?"

Ed flinched away, and the automail hand lifted to help Ed evade Alphonse's pestering. "Nothing," Ed said quickly.

"Nii-san, you didn't go see that man again did you?" Alphonse asked, sounding alarmed.

"No."

"Nii-san!"

"No!" Ed snapped, returning his elbows to his knees and holding his head as if hyperventilating. "I just don't feel good."

"You feel sick?" Alphonse asked, tone of concern still very prevalent. Ed shook his head, and his right knee began bouncing uneasily. "Nii-san." Alphonse gestured to Ed's body with a thrusting palm of his hand. "Nii-san, what's going on? What are you doing? Look at yourself!"

Alphonse's questions felt like an interrogation, and Ed was trying to hide from his own thoughts while he tried to piece them together. His body had the jitters he only knew from being in, or too close to, an explosion. It was an entire disorientation to his equilibrium, and without being able to see the rising smoke, or identify what exploded, he felt ambushed. Somehow it felt as if he'd just stumbled out of a fight, and he'd lost! He was no stranger to pain, and no stranger to mutilation of his body, but this was different. Somehow, this had climbed inside, walked over his organs, rolled around in his blood, turned his stomach into a festering pool of angry soup, and made his limbs weak and bloated. He didn't know what to do to shake the feeling of assault other than to stay still in a place where he wasn't being assaulted! He needed to figure this out, pull himself together, but somehow he was sick with embarrassment over what had just happened, and sickly embarrassed of himself for a reason he couldn't understand.

With Ed's ongoing silence, Alphonse dropped to his knees before Ed's lowered head and grasped Ed's knees with alarm. "Nii-san, whatever happened, you need to tell me." Alphonse sounded gravely serious. "What happened? You went to see him? What did he do?" Alphonse sounded convinced this third party was the culprit, _the terrible culprit_, and it made Mustang feel dirty. _He didn't go ape shit, he didn't hurt the boy…did he?_

Alphonse ran his hand onto Ed's flesh shoulder before brushing Ed's bangs back with his palm. The movement unveiled Ed's face, and Ed turned it aside, away from Alphonse, and toward the door and Mustang's hidden gaze.

"Nii-san, this isn't like you," Alphonse whispered.

Ed licked his lips quickly, and he gave a few quick breaths, before muttering, "I…" He swallowed, cleared his throat, and blurted out, "I slept with the Colonel." Alphonse's mouth dropped open with shock. "In a car," Ed continued, his breathing escalating to panic. "In a parking lot." Ed's eyes went red rimmed, and his jaw tensed painfully. "It was…horrible."

Mustang felt cemented in place, gripping Ed's apartment door frame like a lifeline.

Alphonse leaned forward and engulfed Ed in a hug. "I don't understand," Alphonse said, after a long pause. Ed tipped his forehead to rest on Alphonse's shoulder and didn't move. "I don't understand, how did that happen?" Alphonse disengaged and leaned back to look Ed in the eye. "How did you end up in a car, in a parking lot, in the first place?" Alphonse asked with a disapproving tone.

"It's my fault." Ed gave an elaborate shrug. "Things were going well, and I…" Ed repeated the same lost shrug. "…I decided I'd make a move and…take a chance, see what happened."

"Nii-san, when you make a move, you only do one at a time," Alphonse said, sounding shocked Ed ran wildly through the bases without waiting for the pitch.

"I tried!" Ed said. Alphonse stood up and left for the bedroom. "I wanted to be alone with him, I thought the car would be a good place, but…I fucking cried."

Alphonse reappeared in the bedroom doorway with a quick, "What?"

Ed returned his head to his hands. "I fucking cried like a bitch. I cried like girl." Ed lifted his head, dragging his fingers down his face in anguish, and said, "I don't know what—how—this—I mean not a lot, but…I can't believe I did that."

"You cried in front of the Colonel?" Alphonse asked, sounding stung for them both. Ed shook his head quickly, frantically, with firm determination that must never become reality. "He didn't see you?" Ed nodded just as frantically. "Well, what, I mean," Alphonse trailed off looking torn between muddled confusion, and delicate hesitance, "I mean, what did you cry for?" Ed pushed his face back into his hands and groaned. "You don't have to tell me," Alphonse said quickly, with a slight tone of insult. "Okay, so did you tell him how you felt?"

"I tried, but he stopped me."

"You guys didn't talk!"

Ed sat back with sudden anger, and said, "He didn't say much to me!" The statement was completely defensive. "I don't know how else to do it. I mean, I suggested the car, I freaking suggested it, so the Colonel's not a moron, he knows that means I am interested. I thought he might take that more serious!" Alphonse was mute with sadness. "Why did I think this would be different. Just like every other time he freaking rode my ass and ran."

"Nii-san that's horrible." Alphonse sympathized.

"I feel like shit." Ed's expression broke free of anger, and for a moment, wobbled dangerously toward tears, before the anger returned with strength. "He's such an asshole to me." Ed lifted the automail hand and covered his eyes for privacy. "A fucking asshole."

Mustang stepped back from the door, needing a moment to himself. Ed's words were physical blows, painful, shameful, and degrading. They made him into what he was not, a selfish dirty person, seeking self-gratification before even common decency. His stomach had become a sickening knot. Something meant to be mutually pleasurable, had wielded like a knife, and turned on someone he would privately call friend. _How was this able to happen? How did it get so out of hand, while seeming so in hand!_

"I can't believe Roy slept with you nii-san," Alphonse said. "The military is not going to like this."

Mustang lifted his gaze to the empty hall as a sudden spike of fear came into him. Edward certainly wasn't innocent, but the eyes of an objective party would leap to the conclusion there was one of them far more manipulative considering Ed's current age, and Mustang's title.

"You're barely legal," Alphonse added angrily.

"Stop," Ed said quickly. "I am not going to play low ball and try and get him back for this. I am the one who fucking bent over, so I am the one who was an idiot. He was just taking the offer." Ed's tone of self-criticism was viciously strong, and Alphonse responded with anger.

"Nii-san, you don't just carelessly take someone's virginity from them in the back of a random car!"

Mustang gave a tiny cough of depressed consternation. _Ed was a virgin._ He never would have taken Ed's virginity, and he certainly didn't treat Ed like a virgin when he entered him.

"And then!" Alphonse continued, "Then! dump them home afterward!"

An ugly smile took Ed, and he muttered a bitter, "You do if you hang out with the Fullmetal Alchemist."

Alphonse's tense expression exploded with something of dramatic insult, and he said, "Stop it!"

Ed rubbed the metal palm slowly down his face, before admitting softly. "It really hurt." Ed cracked a wry smile of disgust. "I mean," he looked over to Alphonse, "It fucking hurt." He was devastated with this news. Yet another thing in life a god damn lie. All that romance shit, hugging and kissing crap, and when it got down to it, it was just the bigger animal using the smaller animal, and the entire act wasn't even nice. "Maybe I got the equation wrong," Ed muttered. "Because like this, I don't want to do-it again. Why would I?" he looked to Alphonse for opinion, but Alphonse kept silent, looking worried. "It was like maintenance on the core of my arm's port, only up my ass. I'd have to be certifiable to seek that voluntarily!"

Alphonse gave his head a small sad shake. "It's not supposed to be like that. It's not like that. This was…a bad," Alphonse paused, fumbling for a way to classify all this while Ed lifted his eyebrows with absolute insult and skepticism, "…a bad experience." Then the anger returned. "And I have to tell you honestly, I am really pissed off." Ed slouched back into the couch and slid down the seat looking miserable. "I am not mad at you," Alphonse clarified. Ed did not look as if he thought Alphonse was. "But listening to this is really pissing me off. You're infatuation with the Colonel makes you miserable enough, you can't start this too." Ed grunted, as if to say, _you watch me._ "Nii-san, I am serious," Alphonse warned.

"I just wanted to deal with it myself, I had thought about things, and I wanted to be on my stomach, face away, so I could deal with my pain privately because I figured it'd be uncomfortable," Ed muttered, absently lifting his hand a few inches before letting it flop back to the couch. "Then I, was so—I mean, I mean you know I am," Ed paused, and looked back over at Alphonse, "I mean you know I am kinda slender." _Sure, you could put it that way. _"So he takes his pants off, and I am stuck thinking, this is going to be like jamming a baseball bat down the drain of a sink! I almost fell flat on my face! The Colonel's fucking hung! I got so embarrassed, I kept my dick covered the whole time."

Alphonse looked sleepily phlegmatic with this comment, and gave a heavy sigh. He left toward the kitchen muttering, "Well at least we know the Colonel's sexuality now, and you can stop carping on that."

Ed jerked upright with insult, and yelled a sarcastic, "Yeah, thanks Alphonse! I get the shit fucked out of me in the back of a car, and you're glad we know the Colonel's sexuality!" Alphonse returned digging into an open Tupperware. "My fucking ass feels like it's on fire!" Ed slapped the nearest pillow off the couch and tipped his head back fussing. "It felt like he was railing me with a hot fire poker. I couldn't even move while we were doing it. I was so embarrassed with myself." Ed paused. " Am-so, I _am_ so embarrassed with myself," Ed corrected.

Alphonse was eating cooked strips of jerky looking half asleep and extremely annoyed. "Nii-san, go shower, I can smell it all coming off you." Ed's winced. "It's not bad," Alphonse said quickly. "You had sex, you're going to smell like sex, but your bed doesn't have to smell like sex."

"I am not sleeping in the bed, I am sleeping on the couch."

"The couch isn't good for you. You need a mattress, you're automail's been acting up as it is. I'll throw the couch out," Alphonse threatened.

"The military owns the couch," Ed said flatly, completely unconcerned. Carefully he pushed himself up and started a stiff looking stagger toward the bathroom. When he passed Alphonse he gave the boy's shoulder an appreciative pat, and Alphonse followed Ed with a strip of jerky protruding from his mouth and bobbing about as he chewed.

"You know," Alphonse said, moving to an optimistic tone. "Not to make light of this, but when you got home, I thought you had blown something up, or broken into someplace off limits, or I don't know, run into Homunculus or something." Alphonse gave a brief weak laugh. He leaned into the open bathroom doorway after Ed trudged into the room. "Like old times, and we were going to be in big trouble."

"No such luck," Ed said, sullen.

"Nii-san, I am really sorry it happened like this for you. I didn't want it to be like this, I was hoping it might turn out for the best with the Colonel."

"Instead I find out he just wants a quickie, and isn't interested in me at all."

"Did he say anything like that? Did he say you were cute or anything?"

"At first it…seemed like he might have thought I looked okay…but, it was weird. On and off, sometimes I thought for sure we were on the same page, but then…he stared at my automail leg, and he made this crack about mechanics right when we were going at it." Ed gave a heavy sigh, and it was loud enough Mustang heard it. "I sound like a sap, I don't want to talk anymore."

Alphonse was not appeased with this, and he flicked the half-eaten piece of jerky in his hand at Ed's lugubrious expression.

Ed complained with a soft, "Stop it," and became angry when he was hit with another piece, and yelled, "I sound like a sap!"

Looking peacefully indiscriminate, Alphonse asked, "To who?"

Mustang tried to manage a better view from the crack in the door, but there was nothing but Alphonse standing in the bathroom doorway facing inward, and silence.

"No," Ed finally admitted softly. "He didn't say anything like that." Mustang heard the ruffle of clothing and imagined Ed pulling his tee shirt over his head. "I just wanted to be near him a little, but I didn't want him to think I was unskilled, so I tried to show him I was serious, but he brushed me off. _I couldn't read him_." Ed was frustrated. "He was so fucking calm, and I felt like a god damn boob." A cabinet opened and closed roughly. "So if I messed up, I just, waited, and…but overall he kept getting back into it, and…but I kept getting really nervous and my hands wouldn't stop shaking, and on top of that it was raining, but I covered it okay. Things seemed to be going really well, I didn't know we'd actually do-it until he asked if I had before."

"I can't believe the Colonel did all this knowing you were a virgin," Alphonse said, tone of extreme disagreement. Ed was silent with guilt, and Alphonse followed with an accusing, "Nii-san," and then an accusing, "You lied, didn't you." Ed's silence caused Alphonse to push himself off the bathroom doorway, and Mustang watched the boy take a few angry steps into the apartment before whirling back, and loudly saying, "Nii-san, did you ever think that maybe the Colonel did things the way he did, because he thought since you'd been around, it would be different!"

"Even if I wasn't a virgin, I wouldn't have been _around _Alphonse!" Ed yelled, and Alphonse started laughing.

"I didn't mean it like that," Alphonse said, getting his chuckles under control. He lifted a strip of jerky and, grinning into the bathroom, held it before his mouth. The shower water started, and Mustang heard a few things slam around. "I didn't mean it like that," Alphonse said again, still ready to laugh. "If I did, and if it ever came to that, I'd call you, The Full-Tramp Alchemist."

Ed muttered a soft, "God dammit," before lifting his voice for an angry, "You know what Alphonse, just go away!" Alphonse was laughing as he chomped through his jerky. "Go away," Ed ordered.

"What position did you have sex in?" Alphonse asked, tone innocently curious.

Ed sputtered a fast, "What?"

"Was it one from your magazines?" Alphonse asked, plucking up another piece of jerky. "What do you have that gay porn for if you're not going to masturbate to it?" Unable to see Ed, Mustang imagined Ed taking a large chest expanding breath to unleash one hell of an argument, because Alphonse suddenly thrust up his hand and the Tupperware, as if Ed had a gun, and loudly said, "I am just saying! Nii-san, I am just making a point! I mean, I understand you're not one for that type of research material, since you seem to believe hands on is the best tool." Alphonse began snickering. "Get it? It's a pun. Hands on the best _tool."_

Ed threw a shampoo bottle at Alphonse, and ordered him to go to bed. He slammed the bathroom door and showered, but Alphonse didn't obey. He moved to the couch and sat watching the bathroom door and snacking on Breda's jerky looking strangely cunning, and not at all tired.

Feeling there wasn't a detail more to further destroy, absolutely A-bomb, this clusterfuck, Mustang watched on, and was glad he did. Alphonse seemed a bit screw-ball to him, but while Ed showered, the boy's mannerisms and focus implied that although the sentiment of his words were true, his swinging energy and teasing was forced comfort and respite meant for Ed's benefit.

Ed's shower was quick, during which Alphonse finished snacking and retrieved pillows and blankets from the bedroom for either couch. He climbed onto the left one, and when Ed emerged from the bathroom in his boxers, he noticed this at once. Looking appreciative to find his bed where he wanted it, he firmly pointed at Alphonse and said, "I've had enough. Go to sleep."

"You're going to be such a sweet lover when you find someone nii-san," Alphonse said kindly.

"Enough," Ed snapped. He collapsed face first into the couch, like a falling human tree, and muffled, "I am not going to work tomorrow." Alphonse's exaggerated frown and silence said it all, and Ed added, "I am not going, I can't look at him."

"You can't hide from the Colonel nii-san, he's the Colonel!"

"I don't care. You have no idea how embarrassing gay sex can be Alphonse. I am not going." Alphonse kept on frowning. "I mean it. You'll never have to go through it."

"That's not my fault," Alphonse said. "And I'll do my own thing, and I am sure it'll be equally as different the first time too nii-san."

"No it won't," Ed said angrily. "It definitely won't, and I don't want to look him in the face knowing he did that to me." Ed pulled the blankets over himself so he was nothing but a lump.

"Well I am waking you up for work when I get up tomorrow," Alphonse said, reaching to the lamp. He turned it off, and the living room went dark. Carefully Mustang brought the door flush to the frame so no light from the hall slipped in. "We're getting up early, and now we're going to be tired. Plus if you don't stop obsessing about your penis, and its size, or supposed lack-there-of, you'd feel more adequate in comparison."

From beneath the blankets Ed yelled a loud, furious, "_Alphonse!"_ and then broke into slow impatient speech, as if Alphonse were hard of hearing, "_His shoulders_, are _three times_, the size of mine!"

"So what? The Colonel understands basic science nii-san. When he sees you, he's going to understand you have a smaller penis, because you're a smaller person."

"Stop saying small!" Ed yelled. Alphonse laughed. "It's not small! It's appropriate for my scale of build!" Alphonse continued laughing. "And I am not going tomorrow!"

"Nii-san." Alphonse scolded, and that was the end of the talk.

* * *

End.

Oh my, so that was chapter two…very different from chapter one, I know. I am sure you noticed the massive jump in rating – but I have my fingers crossed you enjoyed it. Please feel confident if this chapter did not upset you in content, later chapters should not either.

Several chapters in this story are lengthy (such as this one) and have lots of detail (making them time consuming)…please spend thirty seconds leaving a review for all you've read. I greatly appreciate it, and I can't wait to hear your thoughts after this sudden jump in plot. (_…and I see you people favoriting and following and not leaving comments! Lol I see you!_)

Chapter 3: _Thirty Three Cen_s, will be up next Friday 06/28/13. I hope to see you then.


	3. Thirty-Three Cens

This chapter is rated MA for Mature Sexual Content, Graphic Scenes, and Yaoi Material  
Reader discretion advised

* * *

Foolish For You  
Chapter 3  
_Thirty-Three Cens_

- mirage -

The next day Mustang was scheduled for a meeting that ran from nine to three, with a half an hour break between twelve and twelve thirty for lunch. In a large conference room with other Colonels and Generals he reviewed his reports, and participated enough to look competent, but he couldn't focus. He was unsettled, and his mind wandered recklessly over memory of last night, picking vivid parts to details, and questioning rudely.

The sensation of being wronged, and that of false accusation, came two fold, with the overall guise of the foolishly-guilty sensation that often shared an evening of binge drinking, or the types of pranks Mustang was familiar with from boot camp: _a good idea at the time, and stunningly brainless in hindsight._

One of the military's rising stars, and Mustang's favorite irritated Alchemist, had been harboring what his brother called an infatuation with him, and while this was flattering, the cruel ignorance of Ed's inaccurate blame was not. Like an overzealous mole, Ed had infiltrated with a plan, executed it stupidly, and caused damage to them both.

The desire to appear faultless and knowledgeable expanded from Edward's youthfully nescient head with a familiarity that pained Mustang. Not wanting to look like a sexual idiot to your partner was something shared by all. Having the game change to emotions and arousals, did not mean the objective, and expectation of the result, changed with it. When he snapped his fingers he wanted sparks, when Ed clapped his hands he wanted alchemy, pulling a trigger meant you hit the target, and when it came to something as sweet as a lover's kiss, or as raunchy as dick-tugging, it was expected you hit the mark, of your buddy would call you a Rock. So faulting Ed for not wanting to admit his own virginity, and giving it up thoughtlessly, was a bit too hypocritical for the entire world, but having his sex called horrible, was something Mustang was not prepared for.

Plainly put, that was because it wasn't. Sex was sex when you broke it down to the most animalistic of principles. It had worked, they had joined, he had released, and they had separated. Ed's excruciating size, had made it an incredibly pleasurable event for him, and the frustrating imbalance gave it the overture of a robbery, when he didn't rob the boy of anything. In fact, it was no one's fault but Edward's things had turned out as they had. If Ed were honest, Mustang would have acted differently. If Ed were honest, he wouldn't have hurt the boy, and he wouldn't have allowed him to be so headless with something that was one time spent.

Carelessly, but perhaps no more idiotically then they all had done the night they gave up that last cherub piece, Ed had let go of a part of himself, and later wondered dumbly if he had done so willingly, or been swindled with delusion. This, more than anything told Mustang exactly what he needed to do.

Without demeaning either of them, he needed a delicate technique for the situation so Ed would never figure out he had, for lack of a better word, spied on the boy to acquire said insight. _Yes, he had spied on the boy._ He had done it twice, and taken his ear gold greedily. So there was only one way to do this, and it was to dress up his approach with dashing presentation, and address it tactfully. We would know what we know, because we are that good. We would know what we know, because we are the Colonel, the all-seeing, all-knowing-being that, years ago, began a relationship of double-think, and over-simplification, and second-guessing of Edward's young twelve-year-old nonsense with an accuracy that stunned the boy into a belief and caution that bordered on religion.

Mustang wasn't comfortable with one of his sexual partners thinking so poorly of him. For a purely selfish reason he had to right this wrong, and put Ed back on his "Sex List" so he could try again. Of course, the indirect benefit was the benevolent cosmic goodness that came from righting a sinful wrong, and saving the morbid outlook and approach Ed now seemed to have when it came to the idea of placing his dick in another's hand for just a few minutes of happiness, but that was second. Reputation came first, and it came respectfully first because when you pulled the trigger you hit the target. He didn't have a path of bedded partners out there bewailing with curiously distrusted and bamboozled expressions, it was a passage of rose pedals, and it was so because he was that good, and he was that good because he was the Colonel.

The silly confusions of a subterfuge alchemist were not going to change this.

Winning Edward back, no, not winning with persuasion, obtaining with right, _obtaining Edward_, would be easy with the boy's infatuation weakening his stronghold for defense and reason. This wasn't an obstacle, it was clocked invitation, because no matter what happened or did not happen last night, no matter what Ed did or did not confess, Mustang believed confidently that Edward wanted him still, and wanted him more. If the boy were the type of person who could get kicked in the teeth and learn to lower his head, than the boy wouldn't be here. Hell, Edward had his leg ripped off and hadn't yet forgotten how to walk.

Edward wanted him back, if only subconsciously to correct this pain and right this wrong, than consciously to pacify office tension and save face.

Listening to the very boring General of the East, discuss a border no one thought was in jeopardy, and a budget everyone thought was too great to combat invisible sand-cats, Mustang contemplated the only question that truly existed when the events of last night were stripped to their ribbons.

_How would we take Edward back, and what would we do to the boy when we had him?_

Surprisingly Ed seemed to like what could almost be called, sappy romance. For an embodiment of a loud, precocious, and often volatile person, his intimacies were that of a preteen girl. Not a single trait lived up to what Mustang thought would have accompanied Edward's persona in bed, and pleasantly he came comfortably to the conclusion, he did not care. If Ed wanted to swoon, and snuggle enough it was apparent even in the backseat of a car, Mustang felt at a loss for what the boy would do in the privacy of a four walled room. There was not a shred of his mind that could create a mental picture of anything endearing, or tender that involved Edward.

Ed's witty, sarcastic, and bull-headed traits, instead surged him with eager desire to attack the boy. He wanted to be rough, how rough depended largely on Ed's response, but he wasn't sure where he would draw the line. If there was to be hugging and petting, it could come after shoving and pounding. He wanted the opportunity to spar with someone on his level, to chase someone who could run at his speed, to chemically and physically fight a lust-driven, sweat-slick body, not equivalent to him in tactic, but varying in artistry, and equivalent to him in skill. _What a race, what a race this was._ One war horse against another. When they were spent, vision slighted, too weak to walk, and drunk with their own oxygen deprived depravity, then, they could hug.

Edward was young, and the boy had deluded notions about what it was like to join his body with another's, Mustang was sure of this. Somewhere in Ed's head the physical science of it tottered round-and-round with the heart-pounding sensuality, the dreamy enraptured drama, and the obscene wickedness of it all, so there was no order to events, and no way to possibly satisfy all extremes in one given episode, given it did not take multiple hours. The sure result was ultimate let down, complete dissatisfaction of one, or many, voids, and a general dumbfounding that couldn't be better described if listed only with the word dumb.

No matter how unethical Mustang's time against the Elric apartment dorm was, it paid off. _Paid off well_, and he wasn't ready to become such a saint he'd toss a good thing away. The secrets he had released past that door and into the hallway of the world told him two very big things: _He misunderstood their night, and Edward was seeking affection. _In flawless connection to the developing answer of his question as to what he would do to the boy and how, this made the plan obvious.

Clarify what happened, offer affection only on clearly noncommittal and temporary terms, and have sex again, to nullify the previous error.

After the meeting Mustang left without word to anyone. There was two hours before Alphonse would be dismissed and leave for home, and he wanted them. He left a note for Hawkeye, his work on his desk, and pocketed his car keys.

Driving he rolled down the windows and opened his uniform top heading towards Ed's barrack. He had checked Ed's attendance, or rather, regarded the post-it note stabbed to his desk reading _'Fullmetal NCNS'_ from Hawkeye.

A No-Call-No-Show, Fullmetal was true to his words last night, and had this been normal circumstances would have found that small backside of his parked in front of Mustang's desk for twenty minutes of yelling.

Today, Mustang wasn't concerned with Ed's absence. On the way to Ed's dorm he stopped and purchased a gift for the boy. Total cost, thirty-three cens, and seven for the box he put it in. Narrow and wide, it was of elegant design, bottom dark green, lid dual striped with the same hue and one lighter. The shop added a white bow, but walking from the shop to the car Mustang plucked it off and tossed it to the road. _Frivolous muliebral thing. _

He carried the box to Ed's dorm with it tucked securely beneath his arm, and before he knocked,he took a curious look through the peep-hole._ How could you resist now, and what was the point?_

The apartment looked empty, and Mustang gave a knock, watching with fascination to see where Ed might be and what he might be doing.

Ed sat up on the first couch, becoming visible yawning heavily, and scratching at his stomach. He looked unassuming, if not half asleep, and certain life was not going to land a commanding officer outside of his door at three in the afternoon.

Mustang stepped back, listening to Ed's mismatched trudging footsteps approach the door before the peep-hole darkened as Ed leaned in for a glance, and then jerked back with a rather loud, "Fuck!"

Mustang had to focus to keep his smile hidden.

Rather than opening the door Ed left it quickly, and this was unexpected. He took a fast glance to either side of him, verified the hallway was still empty, and then looked back into the peep-hole, but Ed had disappeared. _That disobedient little shit. _Did Ed really think he could get away with pretending he was not home when he cussed right through the flimsy wood?

The flame of real irritation was just popping in Mustang, when Ed reappeared crossing quickly from the bathroom back to the door. Raking his hands through his loose hair, slowly, dully, Mustang realized Ed had left to freshen himself up.

Ed returned with his hands working his loose hair into a fast and casual braid. Then he paused, took a deep breath, and yanked the door open.

Ed's miserable expression was far from inviting, and in a flat tone threatening to move hostile he said, "If you're not in office, I take it you've finally been dishonorably relieved of your command."

_Of course,_ Mustang thought, _jokes. _

"Forgive me for not having an, I'll-Miss-Your-Sorry-Ass card, readily available," Ed said, giving a small sarcastic shrug of apology. After the joke he went stale, looking unwilling to extend any pleasantries, and quite obviously uncomfortably pissed. Slowly, Ed's right eyebrow lifted in a look of controlled anger, and he said, "I called in, appropriately." _A lie, _but the message was clear: _go away._ "I am off the clock."

Mustang responded with a bitter familiar grin. "A solider is never off the clock."

"Should I now expect the courtesy of my lectures at home?" Ed asked, agitation making him stiff. "If I had known you were coming, I would have asked you to pick up my dry cleaning and take-out."

It was unspoken between them Mustang let Ed run his mouth until he became tired enough he said something, and Ed continued pressing the limit until they reached this point. Up until that time Mustang gave Ed cold warnings, and Ed managed as much inappropriate commentary as possible. This was a comfortable routine, and Mustang indulged them. Ed looked bottled with his own frustration, and he wanted some of that steam to depart before they spoke.

"I suppose since the military owns this apartment I have to let you in," Ed said, testing to see how much authority the situation granted. Since the day Ed had arrived Mustang had never once lied to the boy. It wasn't his nature, and they both knew that. Ed took solace in the honesty of their relationship, and appreciated the foundation of straight candor. So joking or not, Ed wanted to know what the rules were. _A colonel had never before shown up uninvited. _"That means you outrank me here, right?"

"Correct."

Ed stepped back and opened his arm to the apartment while dropping his gaze to the floor. Respecting people who outranked you was required, liking the fact they outranked you was not.

Mustang crossed the threshold in three confident steps. Ed looked shaggy, and had obviously inhabited the couch for the day. He wore a plain white undershirt and baggy red pants that had short black lines tossed about in absurd places. Mustang looked at them while Ed shut the door, and realized they weren't small lines, but small zippers. "What are they all for?" he asked, indicating Ed's pants.

"Are what for?" Ed asked, before following Mustang's gazes and looking down. "Oh, decoration I think." Ed gave a shrug before breaking one of his classic wise ass smiles. "Or, I guess if I got really hot…" Ed slid his hands into his pockets with a heavy sigh. "So make yourself at home." Ed left in route to his couch. "You will anyway."

Mustang stepped into the apartment and took notice of the changes Ed had caused. Since yesterday pillows had been moved about, and Ed was eating in the living room.

Ed dropped onto the couch and slouched down with his legs splayed open. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Ed asked sarcastically.

Mustang looked at Ed's coffee table. There were a few alchemy books, an open mechanics magazine, more of Ed's notes, and three cups, filled to three different heights, with what appeared to be the same soda. Mustang studied these with a bit of puzzled fascination before lifting his gaze to Ed. Ed was annoyed with his required obedience and was waiting for an answer with an ugly glare.

"You were absent today."

Ed averted his gaze to the box under Mustang's arm and licked his lips quickly. Mustang was familiar with this action. This was what Ed did right before he gave statements like: "_I never told the train to speed up the way it did,"_ or _"The city's insurance should definitely cut these fines in half."_

"I already know why," Mustang said. Ed had ordered pizza, and the box was half empty and on the floor near the coffee table.

"How is it you think you know that?" Ed asked, voice tense with anxiety he couldn't entirely hide. Ed's eyes narrowed into a dangerous pinch that said: _I will slaughter my own brother._

"I had a revelation last night," Mustang said. Ed lifted his eyebrows and gave Mustang a filthy smile that said: _Congratulations asshole. _"It's plagued my mind all morning." Ed's left leg started a nervous bounce. "I was in a meeting until I came straight here."

"That's some revelation," Ed mocked. Mustang met Ed's eyes with this sarcastic comment before looking at Ed's bouncing knee. Ed stopped it immediately. "Are you going to sit?" Ed asked, angrily thrusting a hand out to indicate the parallel couch. "You're going to stand over me? That do it for you?" Ed sat up. "I am relaxing here." Ed touched his palm to his chest. "This is where I live. You want me to stand and report on my absence? Is that it?" Ed looked ready to climb out of his own skin with discomfort. His knee began bouncing again and Mustang felt a bit of remorse sneak into him. _He was making Ed feel bad._ Somehow, standing there doing nothing, he was torturing the boy. Ed averted his gaze into the apartment with an expression of deeply muddled self conscious worry.

"I brought you something," Mustang said. He took the box from beneath his arm, but didn't extend it. Ed looked to the gift with confusion and distrust. "And may I sit?"

"Of course." Ed sounded disgusted. He moved to stand up, but hesitated, and then waved at the other couch a few times. "Just move the pizza mess, it's mine." Ed's afternoon of leisure had him between either couch, and the mess was equally spread. Four paper plates, each with a half eaten slice of pizza, and different dressing poured on, spotted between the coffee table and couch cushions. "I like a little variety," Ed teased. Mustang cleared two of the dishes to the coffee table so he could sit. "Since you're here, does that mean I am on the clock?"

"No." Mustang gave Ed a brief smile. Ed was still nervously on guard, but looked relieved with them both sitting. "I came here because I knew you would be alone." Ed's eyes flicked with curious unease. An expression came and went quickly, and it was one Mustang could not read. "I knew Alphonse would be at work, and leaving directly after my meeting would give me plenty of time to speak to you in private." Ed was silent. "I have some…remorse about yesterday." This was the easiest way to put it, but Ed dropped his eyes with something equaling shame. "I am not sure what happened…" he said, slowly, collecting his thoughts.

"Look, if you don't think we should have done what we did, I won't say anything about it." Ed's gaze deliberately fled absently to his kitchen doorway, and his knee began bouncing again. "It was a one time thing, I understand." Ed gave a quick indifferent shrug. "It's not like anything is or, should, come out of it."

A hint of the painful expression Ed had worn so openly while speaking to Alphonse last night, hid behind the calm look of forced disinterest and reservation that now held his face in a mask. It was so scarcely evident, Mustang recognized without the precious bits of spying, it would have gone unseen, even after all these years. _This worried him immensely._

Younger, Ed uncontrollably painted his thoughts in his expressions, and Mustang had long-standing confidence what was on Ed's face was truth. Now, this misjudgment was grossly naïve. Ed had grown, and like any older person of political exposure, knew how to lie with talent.

"I am looking at it as a one time thing," Ed said, managing a near flawless tone of forced resolve. Mustang was silent, a bit taken back with the command Ed possessed over his emotional armor. "That's all," Ed said, jerking his shoulders in a cursory shrug, and finishing with, "Just a onetime thing."

Mustang sat back and took a deep cleansing breath. "Well," he said, locking his gaze with Ed. Ed interpreted Mustang's new action as relief, and looked physically ill. The word Mustang thought most appropriate was: _devastated_. "I am not," Mustang said. Ed's mouth slipped open and his brow tightened with something between baffled incomprehension, and simple hope. Mustang extended the box. "Take this."

"What is it?" Ed deliberately gave pause to emphasize he was not as curious and eager to receive the box as he actually was.

"I feel what happened yesterday, should not have happened the way it did," Mustang said. Ed took the box and set it in his lap. He lifted the lid and looked inside. "I hope this can show you that I mean that." Ed stared at the two movie tickets adorning a dozen white roses. "I'd like to try again. Another time if you're interested, and I want to tell you that...if things had left you as unsettled as they left me, you have my apology."

Ed capped the box quickly, and with his eyes locked on the closed lid blurted, "You got me flowers." Mustang was silent and Ed peeked up. "You got me flowers and you're apologizing?" Ed was shocked.

"Yes."

Ed looked back to the box and lifted the lid again. He confirmed the flowers were still inside before closing it faster than before, and securing the lid with his palm as if the flowers might escape.

Mustang didn't know how to interpret this. "Have I upset you?"

Ed shifted his weight uncomfortably, and glanced about himself as if he didn't know where to look or what to say.

Mustang stood. He did not want the obtrusive coffee table separating them, but Ed flinched with his sudden jump in height.

Mustang stopped moving. "Ed?"

"I am just surprised you got me flowers," Ed said quickly. "That's such a pussy thing to do coming from you." Mustang stepped around the coffee table and shoved Ed's notes and food aside to sit on a clean surface.

Politely, he extended his hand. "Fine, I'll take them back." Ed's grip on the box tightened, and Ed pulled it closer to himself. "Then keep your sassy comments to yourself." A quick uplifted smile broke across Ed's face, and he looked down to hide it. "Ed." Mustang reached forward and gripped Ed's flesh knee. "My silence does not always mean I am belittling you." Ed pushed the box onto the couch, and in an eager, but nervous gesture, slid his hand to Mustang's.

Without lifting his gaze from their hands Ed admitted softly, "I don't do that with a lot of people." He looked stricken with shyness he was trying to overcome. "I thought I was putting something real down, and you took it for a quick fuck." Mustang squeezed Ed's knee. "You took me home right after."

"I thought you wanted to go."

"You made me want to leave." Ed lifted his gaze, and his expression was one of desperate wanting, and hopeful needing.

"What?" Mustang asked, with confusion. He didn't understand how his actions caused this response in Ed. He had tried to be as considerate as he could. He even opened the awkward topics and asked the hard questions so Ed wouldn't have to. How could what he had done easily with many before, sent Ed running? "I didn't realize that," he said, and this was the truth. Ed was keeping silent, but his eyes were moving side-to-side in skittish hops under rapid thought. Ed's gears were turning, and they looked to be on overdrive, aggressively analyzing something. "What is it you're thinking?" Mustang asked. He slid his hand up Ed's leg and Ed twitched. Mustang lowered his voice, making it affectionately inviting and said, "Tell me what you're thinking."

Ed grew a bit giddy with the intimate tone, and cracked a soft smile. "The flowers are...blowing my mind."

"I was worried you'd be offended." Mustang leaned in slowly, and Ed realized Mustang was descending and his breathing picked up as if he were beginning a jog. "So I purposely strayed away from mushy red." Mustang slid a few fingers beneath Ed's chin to ensure their mouths would meet smoothly, and teased, "Even though you've kept that color all these years with that flashy coat."

Mustang took Ed's lips gently, and Ed let out a sweet baritone hum when they connected. Ed lifted both hands and grabbed Mustang's shoulders, curling his fingers into Mustang's open uniform top and dress shirt. Mustang kept the kiss simple, controlled, and quick enough their breathing was easy when he leaned back. As soon as he disengaged Ed ducked his head and wiped at his mouth with a small excited breath of air.

"You need to tell me what you think," Mustang said, leaning to Ed's ear. The smell of Ed's hair was potent. It carried with it fresh shampoo, and after their sex, a scent Mustang understood came out of Ed's body. "I won't release any more information until you release some." Ed chuckled. He sounded happy to own a form of control, happier Mustang was eager for his thoughts, and exhilarated to learn suddenly, stupidly, that he was half of this equation. _Fifty-fifty._

Mustang slid his hand up Ed's chest in a slow sensual gesture that deliberately pet Ed's body. He teased Ed with his tone, cooing out Edward's name until Ed looked too thrilled to keep his basking silence any longer.

"Ten flowers was the cut off for throwing your lame ass out," Ed teased, groping at Mustang's arms and shoulders with deep arousal for the muscle and solidarity of Mustang's frame. The blue of the Amestrian uniform was an aphrodisiac of strength and ability.

Mustang went forward and trapped Ed between him and the couch. Ed squirmed with the close proximity, and the automail grip became intense. "Guess you got lucky."

Mustang laughed, and captured Ed's lips again. The kiss made Ed more alive, and Ed pressed his body upward so they were flush together. He wrapped his automail around Mustang's back, and raked his flesh hand into Mustang's hair wanting their closeness.

Mustang broke the kiss, but not his grip. Ed's breathing was quick and exerted, and Ed looked sleepy with his growing lust. "The flowers were the only thing I brought into this apartment dressed up," Mustang whispered. "I came here to seduce you, and I am not painting it any other way. I hope you're prepared for what I brought."

"Good," Ed snickered. "I can handle only one chick-trick a day. Make any move to bust out candles or Champaign, and you can eat my fist."

Mustang loved the jokes, more than he knew he could. He climbed onto the couch laughing and pushed Ed to his back.

Ed was all smiles until he was suddenly under Mustang's much larger presence. Then his tone became serious and he said, "I want to…roll to my stomach." Mustang's own playfulness faded as well. This statement brought last night back as forcefully as a bad taste in his mouth. "If you want to, I am cool with it," Ed said, keeping a casual tone. "I just…want to be on my stomach." Ed was catching on something was breaking their mood and forced a weak smile, adding, "That's all, no big deal."

Mustang didn't want to continue with lies behind them, or worse, joining them again. He had positioned himself so he knelt over Ed's thin waist. Tenderly he ran the fingers of his left hand down Ed's forehead and over his features. Ed closed his eyes, but otherwise seemed to enjoy the touch.

"How many times will this be for you then?" Mustang asked, letting his fingers drop off Ed's chin.

Ed smiled, and his right eye winked. "Don't get jealous or anything, but this will be my fourth." Ed propped himself up on his automail elbow with a bright grin, and lifted himself so they could kiss.

Mustang pulled back at the last moment so Ed's lips missed him by an inch, and said, "Considering you lie to me fifty percent of the time, that means this would be your second time, and I took your virginity from you in my car without any great care." Ed flinched, and jerked his head back so fast he nearly slipped off his elbow. The smile vanished from Ed's face and he was mute with shock. Mustang found this fact frightfully sad. He didn't mean to take anyone's first-time, and certainly, never to do so in such a heartless way. "I was negligent Ed. Negligent of the care you needed. It made something I would have wanted tender, something not." Ed lifted his flesh arm, planted it across Mustang's chest in a blocking gesture, and shoved. He didn't utter a word, but the action was a clear command for Mustang to get up.

Mustang didn't budge, and Ed increased the strength of his shove. "Excuse me," Ed said angrily, trying to sit up. He was off balance with his bottom half stuck flat, and when Mustang ignored the second push Ed became angry. "Colonel!" Ed snapped. "Get up!"

"Is that true Ed?"

Ed went rigid, and turned to Mustang with wide bulging eyes full with unbelieving shock. _He couldn't believe he was being asked this_. "I thought about it last night. How when we were in the car there were a few things that seemed a bit…unusual, but I couldn't figure out how or why."

"Un—unusual?" Ed stammered, furious with insult.

"I didn't see it until after, the equation, equivalent exchange, what you were hoping to gain." This was unbelievably sad to Mustang. "A bit of pain, for a bit of affection."

Ed saw red when he heard his own thoughts spit back at him. He turned his arm into a fist, planted it dead center in Mustang's chest, and pressed upward. "Get off!" Ed yelled. "I've had enough! I want up! Thanks for the damn flowers, but get out of my place!" Mustang grabbed the wrist to Ed's shoving hand, and the automail slugged him so fast he didn't even see it coming.

Mustang was tossed back onto his butt, and Ed scrambled out from under him, and was on his feet in seconds. Mustang grabbed at his jaw. I was throbbing, and groaning he asked, "Did you pull that?" Ed was pacing furiously from either couch and didn't hear the question. "I can't believe you just hit your commanding officer," Mustang said, truly shocked.

"_Negligent of the care I needed_," Ed repeated, seething with intense disgust. "Who do you think you are!" Mustang dignified his seated position on the couch and gave his jaw a stretch. "Don't bullshit with me, _don't bullshit me!_"

Mustang rubbed his jaw sourly. "I am not bullshitting you Ed."

"What do you think you're doing! _Calling my bluff?"_ Ed stopped pacing, with both hands on his hips, and leaned downward. The action was that of an adult to a small child, and Mustang narrowed his eyes with his patients dwindling.

"I _am_ calling it."

"You didn't figure this out on your own." Ed sounded certain this was so. He lifted a vicious pointing finger and aimed it at Mustang. "Who told you!" Ed was glaring with hate. "You freaking—then you freaking feel bad, and that's what this is about! _Pity!_ I don't want it!"

Ed stepped to the gift box and slapped it from the couch. It flew from the cushion like a Frisbee and skidded across the floor with white roses jumping into the path behind it.

Mustang stood. He did so like a prestigious man, in one fluid movement, and became a tall pillar at Ed's side. Ed's hands were tight fists, and he was panting with his own anger.

"If you want me to go, then I will," Mustang said. "But this isn't pity."

"It _is_ pity!" Ed stepped to the side so the path to the door was easy. "Now get the fuck out of here!"

Rather than stepping towards the door Mustang stepped flush to Ed and leaned into Ed's face. Uncomfortably Ed went wire hard. He lifted his hands in both offense and defense.

"You are very strong," Mustang said angrily. "Don't be so puerilely trivial you think I am lying to you now when I've always kept my word. I just told you this isn't about pity, and that's not what it's about." Ed shook his head, in a quick doubtful shake. Mustang strengthened his voice into what was a near yell and said, "_No, it isn't_." Ed took a step back, and Mustang closed the distance. "Your tenacious precocity is why I've always enjoyed your company. Dealing with you is a challenge and a challenge is something I like." He pointed at the roses spilled on Ed's hard wood floor. The military apartments were furnished decently, at least that much could be said, and a white reflection pooled around each one. "So don't stand here, or ever stand in front of me, and allow me to hurt you, by denying me knowledge I need to know. If you'd stop being so selfishly hypocritical for a second, you'd realize what happened last night is just as much your fault as it is mine."

Ed was stunned, and gapped for a moment before managing a croaking, "My—my fault?" Ed asked, anger blooming again.

"You lied because you felt foolish, fine." Mustang waved the severity of this away. "Everyone wishes they weren't a virgin before they lose it and only say they are after they've lost it." Mustang grabbed Ed's arm in an extremely loose grip. He didn't realize he was so angry until Ed's bull-headed ignorance made him realize the severity of what Ed had allowed him to do. "If you were going to lie to me, out and out lie to me, than you should have done a better job so you could have paid the price for your words on your own. Instead, you make me pay for it with you, and you of all people should know better Fullmetal." He tightened his grip. "I am setting the record straight right now," he said, taking two fast steps to the right and pulling Ed with him.

Ed was unprepared for sudden movement, and staggered along. The path deliberately led Ed over the thorn-less roses littering the floor, and Ed looked down when his bare foot stepped on a white blossom. A few petals were peeking up between Ed's slender toes and Ed blushed. He stared at what looked like white feathers beneath his feet before lifting a shocked gaze to the dark and cunning expression breeding across Roy's face. "I don't bring just any man flowers," Roy said softly. "Generally," he teased, "it's thought a pussy thing to do." Ed's jaw dropped.

Roy silenced. He offered Ed a moment to digest everything he had just said. He had not given Ed a rant with so much intensity since the day he threw Ed's metal state alchemist watch at him, and threatened to lock Alphonse in a rotting prison if Ed ever disobeyed him. Hawkeye had followed this activity with an hour long lecture on how Edward, as a child, would not be able to identify exaggeration inside a topic so serious, and as Roy had later learned, Ed had not. Ed was terrified, and most of his obedience, Roy attributed to that terror. Until Ed grew to find it doubtful he could ever do anything so cruel, he believed this, and the discovery it was hyperbole, took Ed several years. Today, he only planned to give Ed several minutes. _He had high expectations._

Ed responded faster than anticipated. He pulled his arm away and gave it an absent rub while staring down at the roses beneath his feet. There was awkwardness in the silence between them. They were both uncomfortable with the unpredictable evolution of what they were setting into motion, and neither would concede to losing, although it was unclear how losing or winning might commence.

Looking nervous, Ed spoke after a short pause, and said quickly, "I am not getting in trouble for hitting you."

"I was waiting for you sarcastic comment," Roy said. "Is that it?"

Ed lifted a distrusting gaze. "Are you avoiding my question? Did someone tell you, and you don't want to give up their identity?"

Roy shook his head. "No one told me." Ed looked relieved, albeit confused. "And yes, I mean what I say. I _always _mean what I say, and that is why I am sometimes silent. When I choose to speak I do not lie." He lifted his hand to Ed's face and touched Ed's cheek gently. "Especially to you." This was fact; he had never lied to Fullmetal. "I am sorry for what I did yesterday. The last thing I ever wanted to do was take an act of affection and make it hurt you." This was the truth. "I want you to know that, and to know I am noncommittal, temporary pleasure." Roy smiled. "And I am interested in you."

Ed nearly cut Roy off pressing their mouths together. Ed attacked, hopping upward and latching on, as if preparing to climb a large tree. Like a key sliding into a lock, Ed had unlatched, and returned to an ardent desire. He wrapped his arms about Roy's neck and was kissing rapidly. Roy had never had someone kiss him with such furious speed, and for a moment he was speechless before he began a soft private laugh. Ed stepped on the top of Roy's steel-toe boot, and next, the bottom rung of the coffee table, growing taller and able to meet Roy head on.

"I never thought you'd say anything like this," Ed said, pulling away for air.

Roy smiled and obliged himself with Ed's body. Ed was almost entirely in his arms and he squeezed the boy. He grabbed at Ed's slender frame and groped up and down. The cotton of Ed's clothing made him feel soft and domestic. He slapped a hand to Ed's ass and grabbed Ed's right cheek in a dominating fistful. Ed's pants were thin, and he could tell there was nothing underneath.

Roy gave what Hawkeye called his, Manly-Giggle, a low chuckling in the back of his throat that came when he was earning himself a checkmate. It was a triumphant self-appreciative applaud, born through a shit-eating grin. Ed turned to Roy, looking pleased and intrigued with a sound he'd never had.

Roy leaned down and nipped at Ed's chin. Ed flinched unexpectedly, but hummed the way he had when they kissed. "The fact you're going commando is a turn on," Roy said, keeping his voice low and sultry. He used the hand on Ed's ass to grind Ed into his pelvis. The forceful union brought Ed's excitement into him, and he was certain Ed could feel his own.

"It's just cause I didn't do laundry, don't read too much into it." Ed sounded pleasantly smug, and leaned his face into Roy's neck. It fit perfectly, and Roy felt Ed sniff his neck and collar with appreciation for the scent of his body. "You smell really good," Ed said softly. Ed slid his hands up Roy's chest to the top of his dress shirt and opened the top three buttons quickly with his flesh hand. Roy was impressed. The flesh hand did much better than both hands combined, and Ed's automail wasn't shaking the way it had last night. "Can I touch your chest?" Ed asked, slipping a few fingers into the break in fabric.

Roy smiled wildly. "Ed, you can touch anything you want, and you don't have to ask." Ed was excited and immediately fisted either side of Roy's shirt. Roy recognized this from last night when Ed ripped it open spraying buttons everywhere, and he stopped the boy.

"How many shirts must I be in debted to you?" he teased.

"I'll fix it with alchemy," Ed said quickly, sounding disappointed. Roy trapped Ed's hands kindly in his right, and brought his left to the few remaining claps holding his uniform together. The clasps were tricky, and also expensive.

"I only have so many uniforms Ed." Roy opened his top, released Ed's hands, and stepped back. Staring Ed in the eye he began slowly unbuttoning his shirt, and Ed first looked dampened he wasn't being allowed to lead, before he came to understand the situation.

"Okay," Ed said, glancing away with an embarrassed blush spreading into his cheeks. "Okay, just undress normally." Ed covered his eyes briefly with his automail, as if he were being caught looking rather than shown.

"Take off your shirt," Roy said, shrugging out of his uniform top.

Ed shook his head. "I'd rather keep it on. I got scratched, and I don't want anything to hit it."

Mustang peeled his dress shirt off and dropped it to the floor with the roses. "I'll be careful."

Ed hesitated, reached to the bottom of his tee shirt, hesitated again, and then peeled if off. Underneath was a large rectangular bandage taped to the center of Ed's stomach and chest. Ed peeled that off next, and it revealed a thin, but deep, scratch up the middle of him. The red line held the eeriness of an autopsy incision, and Ed gave Roy's worrisome look a smile. "It looks worse than it is," Ed said, wadding the bandage into his shirt. "Don't let it distract you." Ed's dropped his tee shirt and it hid three roses.

Roy pushed Ed's bandage from his mind, and they moved together to the couch. They sat to face one another, and Roy grabbed Ed's face with both hands and locked their lips. Ed was fighting to be an active participant in their kissing. He wanted to kiss as much as be kissed, and he was floundering with creativity. There was no pattern or technique, and Roy was nervous he'd end up biting Ed if he moved too aggressively, so he surrendered. Being allowed to kiss seemed to be all the seduction Ed needed, and the force of him was growing stronger. Ed's hands moved quickly, the heat of his body was strong, and he pressed Roy back into the arm of the couch and climbed to his knees. Insistently he moved from Roy's mouth to Roy's jaw and kissed downward into Roy's neck. Ed's bangs painted over Roy's cheek, and in a fast seizing manner, Roy grabbed Ed's head, and bit the side of Ed's ear playfully.

Ed grunted a deep carnal sound of appreciation and dropped both hands to Roy's belt. He unfastened it at lightning speed, and ripped Roy's fly down before boldly reaching in. Ed was fearless until he was entering intimate cottons, and then his hand slowed down with delicate caution. Roy felt Ed's fingers carefully wrap around his erection in a nervous fashion. Ed was new, inexperienced, and learning fast. His curiosity and sexual hunger was almost blinding once let out, and Roy found this delightful. He watched Ed experience touching a second party with private joy. In a burrowing fashion Ed was weaseling his hand forward with his breath held and a tight look freezing his expression into one of concentration.

"Let's get you naked," Roy said, hot with the idea.

Ed looked up with a bit of surprise, and gave the room a quick glance. "It's…kind of bright….don't you think?" Roy didn't care. He smiled with eager anticipation to peel Ed entirely bare. _The more lights the better_. "I…" Ed pulled his hand back, and either didn't know how to give hand jobs, or didn't want to give one. "I don't want to be the only one." Roy found this adorable. He leaned to Ed's neck and kissed Ed's pulsing jugular. "It's not fair," Ed complained. Roy laughed into Ed's neck. "Roy, it's not fair. I just…" Ed trailed off, enjoying the warm attention moving down his neck. "…but if it's a big deal…"

Roy considered Ed's changing tone. Ed seemed to leave final decision making up to him when he offered anything Ed interpreted as resistance. This was unexpected, and it made him worry for the boy. Ed would need to learn he had to protect himself in bed the same way he protected himself in life. Love, and more importantly sex, was not the magic heaven-breaching orgasmic event books made it out to be.

"Relax Ed," Mustang teased, placing a hand on Ed's shoulders and pushing Ed back as he climbed up. "Same rules for us both, we'll keep things equal." Ed smiled widely, with excitement. "I want to feel your bare skin up against mine." He reached down and unlaced his boots with years of military experience. They were heavy leather fortresses, and breaking free of them was a peace treaty. Casually Roy rid himself of his pants next, and in his boxers returned to Ed's eager gaze.

Ed had been motionlessly content watching Roy's transformation from the familiar intransigent cutout of the Amestrian military, to that of a human bag. He wore the signs of war, and life, the same way Edward did. His skin was shaped and hardened with athletics, but admirably disfigured. Smooth muscle arches were laced with canal paths of bullets that had missed. The left side of Roy's navel was singed with flawlessly smooth burned flesh which had darkened and scarred. Edward was leaps and bounds ahead in comparison, but Roy was not a Ken Doll, and both of them were glad. Both of them were proud, and Ed reached to his own pants and unfastening them.

With the rules verbalized, and some level of compromise, Ed was not only happy, but also eager. He striped his pants off and tossed them over the couch grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

Roy laid his hand over Ed's stomach and pet over Ed's molded abs. His fingers cascaded over the undulating surface with the intensity of a chiseled Tick-Tac-Toe board. Ed was tickled when Roy's coarse thumb passed his belly button, and shivered.

"You have to let me spoil myself a bit," Roy said. He dropped his grip, and curled his hand into the rim of Ed's boxers. "I want the chance to really look at you." Ed became nervous, and his visual excitement drained into insecure determination. Roy knew this was not something Ed was entirely comfortable with. Ed kept himself politely covered in the car and had confessed to Alphonse this was done on purpose. Idiotically Ed seemed unsure if the appropriately sized length and girth cradled on the flesh trench of thighs before his human knee and metal infrastructure belonged there. _Was it big enough? Was it long enough? _It was hard to judge when part of your leg suddenly became fat with steel and threw off the symmetry of things.

In a brightly lit room Ed had nowhere to hide. He overlapped Roy's waiting flesh hand with his automail, feeling just a bit too unsure about things. _It looked big enough, looked long enough, but…might be wrong like all the rest. Thinned out from the life threatening disaster that mutilated his young growing body, or strained, and robbed of nutrients from his recovering and struggling flesh body as he lived with the metal weight and inhibition._

"Maybe we should get some blankets or something," Ed said, beginning a blush he couldn't hide. It came roaring into his cheeks, and he hated its warming glow.

Roy gave a nod of acknowledgement, and then took Ed's boxers down. He saw no compromise, and found it ridiculous they might try to proceed today, or in the future, blushing and hiding like children. Ed's body had no means of resistance. Thin as a rail, and with sharp protruding hip bones that did little more than lift and drop the elastic rim of his shorts for an obscene caressing rub of his erection, Ed's shorts practically fell off once pulled.

Ed's skin was fair, with a light dusting of peach fuzz traveling down from his belly button, and growing into a finely strand landscape of blonde pubic hair. Ed's genetics made it a fraction as governing as the hair on Mustang's body, and Roy slid his hand into it with appreciation.

Ed startled with his abrupt exposure, and gave Roy's thigh an angry kick. "What'd I say!" Ed snapped, blushing madly. The blow hurt, but Ed's riled irritation struck Roy as blithely cute, and he laughed. Ed reached down and half covered himself with a loud, "Don't be an ass!" He pulled a couch pillow closer for some obstruction, and Roy tightened his grasp on Ed's sensitive interest. Ed gurgled a noise of arousal he'd probably never made, and wiggled with weak anger. "You won't like it when I take liberties without asking," Ed said, annoyed voice strained under the rush of his libido. "And I will, if you do."

Roy glanced up, still smiling, and agreed quickly. "Noted," he said. Then he stroked his hand up Ed's length and sent the boy's hips twitching spastically. Ed's skin was delicately smooth and thin feeling, the way all sensitive parts of the body were, and Roy marveled a low spoken, "You're so soft."

"Yeah, I—I," Ed stammered, swallowing roughly. "I condition."

Roy lifted his gaze. "Your pubic hair?"

Ed nodded, swallowing again. "Cause I condition the hair on my head so…"

Roy was delighted, and broke into a soft unexpected laugh that confused Ed.

Ed frowned, jacking his brow downward over his eyes with accusation, and asked, "What?" He didn't see anything funny about his hygiene. "That okay?"

"It's fine Ed." Roy dropped his hand to Ed's thigh and stroked it with affection. Ed's penis was pink with energy.

"You don't do that to yours?" Ed asked, genuinely curious.

"I don't even do it to my hair." Ed looked opposed. "But I like what it does to yours. Even if it's a little metro to start styling our pubs."

"I'm gay," Ed spat, defensively. He reached down and took the hand Roy was petting him with. "I am good with starting now," Ed said seriously. "Do you have that stuff?" Roy hadn't arrived without it, and he reached down to the floor and pulled the bottle from his pant pocket. "Want me to hold it?" Ed's playful expression had gone tight with anticipation of last night's pain and awkwardness.

Roy shook his head. "No, I don't want to be as mechanical as we were last time."

Ed's face buckled with confusion and hurt, and Roy added a quick, "Referring to the way we simply moved into position and carried out the act. Not mechanical as in actual mechanics, or your automail."

Ed stared at Roy, doubtfully suspicious Roy possessed this degree of clarify, but also, so wholeheartedly overrun with grateful relief, he kept silent. _Roy wasn't being cruel, and things were going to be different from the car._

Roy oiled his hand, before pushing his boxers to his knees and oiling himself. Ed's erection looked angry as he watched this, but Ed didn't touch himself, and kept rather still. Once satisfied, Roy indulged in a teasing moment in which he locked his gaze with Ed and stroked himself until Ed's blush ran into his ears, and Ed covered his eyes, demanding they move on. Ed's body was shuddering with torturous expectation, and Roy loved it. He dropped his palms to either of Ed's thighs and massaged strongly. He stroked them up over Ed's hip bones, and back down in quick sweeping passes trying to help Ed acclimate to his touch.

He pet Ed's erection once or twice, making it shine with oil, cupped Ed's balls, and then slid his hand underneath once Ed seemed as relaxed as he was going to get with all the intimate pawing. Roy was polite, and singled out a finger, but didn't stop massaging Ed with his other hand. It was less intimidating to have more than one touch when one was so explicitly personal. The groping banter made things kinder, but Ed still gasped when Roy finally touched Ed's anus. He didn't arrive seeking entry, instead he slid his finger downward in a welcoming hello, and Ed gripped the couch. The automail dug in rather fiercely, and when Roy inserted, Ed picked his hips up as if he'd sat on something hot.

In the light, it was easy to see that Ed loved it. His erection was weeping, and he closed his eyes, with beads of sweat on his forehead, and his grip clenched uncontrollably. One finger was sweet torture, and Ed enjoyed himself, thrusting his hips and drilling himself downward.

Roy was not a passive supplier in this game, he stroked, and rubbed, and encouraged Ed with small words and noises. He didn't intervene when Ed moved; lifting his legs up a bit and spreading them open. Ed was hungry for penetration and was in absolute bliss.

Horribly one-sided, Roy waited patiently, certain his time would come, and thrilled with the sight of Ed tickling himself. It seemed a crime to interrupt. Ed was practically withering and had locked his grip on either side of him to resist what must have been an overwhelming urge to beat-off. Ed's pleasure took away his embarrassment and insecurity, and he was living in a hot, infinite moment, of physical ecstasy. Roy hoped he had the talent to keep some semblance of it as he brought his second finger to Ed's entrance and began working it in.

From hot to immediate cold, Roy's second finger destroyed the gratification of the first, and Ed jerked with the flare of pain it brought. His eyes shot open, and he gave a mute yawn of endurance.

Roy leaned down to extend comfort, and kissed about Ed's bottom lip. "Just try and relax," he said, working his second finger deeper. The oil made it slippery, but Ed's body still didn't want it. "Your muscles can be your enemy, so let them go. My fingers can fit Ed." He was only remotely worried about what Ed's condition might be after last night. He wasn't going to pass up another one of life's good things, and forego this chance. All he had to go on was faith and hope Ed wasn't withholding further information they needed when he brought his third finger to the boy.

Fitting his third finger in with the other two was like trying to squeeze all three into the top of a beer bottle. It was hard on his fingers, and hard on Ed. Last night he thought he just hadn't used enough initial lubricant, and that Ed was clamping his muscles to enjoy the sensation. Today he understood Ed's muscles didn't know how to loosen so things could get in, and that meant the only way to do so, was with force.

Roy pressed his fingers inward until Ed's yielding muscles lost. This was painful. He knew it was. He had been on the bottom before, and although it had been years since he'd lost his virginity there were things you never quite forgot.

He forced all three fingers in to his second knuckle, and the discomfort this caused was written across Ed's face. Ed's brow had pinched into a deep crevice between both his eyes. His jaw had tightened, his teeth were clenched and Ed, like a statue, had not made a single noise or moved a single inch.

"Does it hurt a lot?" Roy asked, speaking softly.

Ed's eyes were permanently closed after the second finger, but with this question the right eye parted slightly and met Roy's gaze. Ed didn't seem to know how to answer this, and Roy rephrased. "Does it hurt?"

Ed answered immediately. "Yes."

"I can't help it, you're really tight."

Ed was annoyed, and said quickly, "I can't help that I am really tight."

Roy nodded softly. This was true. "Let's kiss a bit," Roy suggested. This would take Ed's mind off what they were doing, but Ed shook his head. He looked as opposed to them kissing as Roy had ever seen him. "Want me to touch you some more?"

"No."

Roy gave a quick sigh. "Ed." He was kneeling between Ed's splayed legs, leaning forward with his left hand holding himself up, and his right hand perfectly still and embedded. "You're making this a bit awkward." Ed's mouth slipped open with growing shock and insult he was being accused of this. "We just need to push past this part. I am going to be careful with you." Roy pressed his fingers further, inserting not more than a few millimeters, but Ed flinched harshly.

"Freaking hell, you're hurting me!" Ed glanced down between them and looked severely uncomfortable with the state of his body, his weak erection, and Roy's strong erection hovering over him. "This really feels awful, just fucking awful."

"Worse than last night?"

"I don't want to talk about last night." Ed lifted his hand and grabbed Roy's left forearm. "I'm just trying to wait for this to fade, but it's not. It's staying just as sharp."

It was against ever fiber in Roy's being but he still asked. "Do you want to stop?"

Ed shook his head at once. "No."

"We can stop." Roy sounded completely sincere. He sounded understanding, he kept his expression controlled and sympathetic, but his body was on a different wave length. Ed was naked, on his back, half erect, sweating, blushing, and although against his body's current wishes, spreading open a very private part. If Roy took a fat red sharpie marker and wrote "Fuck Me" across Ed's chest, Ed would not have looked more naturally fuckable than he did right then. The last thing Roy wanted to do was stop, and he was painted with relief the suggestion made Ed angry.

"Okay," Roy said kindly. If Ed didn't want to stop that meant they had to keep going. With Ed a novas he felt it was up to him to do this right, and he took that authority. "Then we're going to do things my way here."

"As opposed to my way!" Ed gestured between them with an angry flutter of his hand. "Letting you stick your fingers in until they feel like hot pokers, is not what I would consider my way. This fucking sucks!"

Roy felt his irritated side prickle. Hearing his preparation for sex sucked, was too close to saying his sex sucked, and he leaned down and took Ed's chin in a soft but commanding grip so Ed would stop talking. "The only way to do this is to shove," he said, giving his hand a press. Ed hitched a breath, and held on tighter. Slowly Ed scrunched his nose upward, dealing with the pain.

Roy shifted his weight entirely to his legs, and poured the remaining amount of lubricant onto his embedded fingers and Ed's irritated skin. Ed shifted uncomfortably when this was done, and scrubbed at his face with his automail hand. "It can't be helped," Roy said, he pressed his fingers delicately, using concentrated strength as if he were trying to force a square peg into a round hole. Ed's legs shuddered, and he tipped his head upward, before speaking loudly.

"Geez!" Ed said. "Ow Roy, Dammit!" Ed sounded as if he were trying to play down how much this was hurting, but his breathing was beginning to escalate into coping gulps.

Roy immediately planted his free palm alongside Ed's head and leaned down so his nose could brush over Ed's forehead tenderly. "I am right here with you, don't worry Ed." Ed reached up and looped his arms around Roy's back. "It's okay Ed. I won't hurt you."

"You are," Ed said angrily, ducking his head into Roy's neck. "You're freaking hurting me. This feels terrible."

"We can stop."

"No!" Ed tightened his grip. "I want to have sex. I want to have sex with you!" Roy was flattered, and smiled down to the couch. In a soft embarrassed tone Ed muttered, "I never thought you'd have sex with me."

"You never asked." Ed disengaged from Roy's neck with a bewildered look of shock, and Roy smiled. "I'm teasing."

"I want to roll over," Ed said, sounding as if he'd had enough. "I need to roll over now. Can you…" Ed looked down between them briefly, as if too embarrassed to handle the sight.

Roy obliged and pulled his fingers back slowly. For Ed this was sandpaper dragging over a cut. He hissed with the tight hot pain of it, before his muscles recognized the decrease in size, and he groaned with relief. Roy didn't detach, he reduced to only one embedded knuckle and then pressed back in. Ed cried out with the unexpected stab. He had anticipated deliverance, or what was close to after the painful stretch, but Roy's unexpected move was white pain, and a startled, "Ah!" leap from his throat. Roy quickly withdrew to one knuckle again, and Ed found his voice. "Why would you do that!" Ed cried angrily. "Don't pull!" Roy pressed back inside, and Ed's automail shot up and grabbed Roy's shoulder with a speed and accuracy that was a bit frightening. "I want, to roll, over," Ed said firmly, speaking each word with cold pronunciation. "Stop pulling like that, _please_." Ed's beg startled Roy from his focus, and his gaze jumped up. Ed's expression was serious, and he slid the automail to Roy's chest and the palm was cold and hard, like an iron. Ed gave a single upward press, and Roy carefully withdrew his finger and sat back.

Ed groaned a loud sigh of immense relief. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes for a brief second of respite before rolling to the side as if half asleep. Sloppily he moved to his stomach and pulled his legs under him so he was sitting on them with his forehead to the couch as if preying.

Roy was a little surprised. Ed was keeping the position as modestly dignified as he could while still remaining accessible. "You want to do it like that?" Roy asked.

"Ya-huh," Ed said, glancing back. "This is okay for me. You can go ahead."

Roy considered this. Ed was putting himself into position the same way he had in the car, and Roy wasn't certain how comfortable with this he was. Although he knew in real life you didn't roll about in a tangled kissing heap until accidentally slipping together all willy-nilly, this still seemed rather sterile. "Well…" He looked down at his own erection. Ed made him severely hard, and he stroked his erection, careful not to tease, but he wanted the oil to stay fresh. "Can I," he tongued the word cuddle, "hold you?"

Ed nodded. "Sure, go ahead."

Roy climbed over Ed, and blanketed Ed with his body. This was a grave improvement from the car, but he didn't feel out of the woods yet. He had to make sure this event was different, remarkably different, so he wrapped a loving arm around Ed's chest and hugged Ed flush to his own. "I like holding you," he said. Ed gave a deep baritone giggle, pleased with the compliment. Roy could feel Ed's happiness radiating upward. "Is there anything in particular, you like?" Roy asked. He was trying his hardest to be sensitive and considerate.

Ed laughed again. "Are you kidding?" Ed peeked back with a smile. "Yes, I want to have sex with you. What more do I have to do?" Ed gave his hips a tiny thrust up, as if to say: _here I am. _They were so perfectly aligned, this tiny movement bumped the tip of Roy's penis into Ed's lower cleft, and Roy stopped himself from sucking in a revealing breath of desire. "You must have all the self-restraint in the world," Ed teased, sounding cheerful until his gaze dropped, and losing his confident jesting tone, asked, "You…like how I look, right? I get you up, right?" Ed looked back over his shoulder, and there was pensive worry in his eyes. "I mean, I put myself in position for you and everything. Why are we stalling?"

Roy didn't know where to begin. What began as a feeling of insult Ed was disregarding much of what he was trying to give the boy, in the same second became understanding Ed was missing his signals entirely. Ed, although willing and knowledgeable of the steps, seemed to have missed the chapter on what sex was really about. It wasn't just getting into position, there was something deep and acutely personal directly before, and directly after, the act. In many ways those periods were the true magic. Unintentionally, Ed was walking over what they were doing, and his own feelings, but targeted by the ramifications anyway.

With a grace that would later baffle Roy, he leaned forward to be eye level with Ed and said softly, "Because you are impatient." He stroked his hand up Ed's bare back, and Ed shivered. "I didn't come here to fulfill a function, when I said I wanted to seduce you that meant you as a person, not you as a pound of flesh." He groped his hands over Ed's shoulders and then down Ed's arms. The automail gave no sense of touch, and he was careful to keep his fingers visible so Ed would know it was happening, and know he was treating both arms the same. "I want to stimulate you, and stimulate myself." He pressed his face to Ed's back, so the vertebrae of Ed's spine felt like tiny stones beneath his skin. Playfully he nibbled one until Ed's shoulders quivered with an involuntary shudder of arousal. "You need to slow down Ed. Let me enjoy this, let yourself enjoy it." Squeezing and kneading at Ed's body he slid his hand down Ed's left side, over Ed's hip, and down Ed's cheek before taking hold of himself. Ed had silenced with his last words, and Roy felt a sense of resolve, if not a bit of embarrassed eagerness, from Ed. "I'll hold you tight as we join," he said, angling them together. "Stop me if you need to."

Ed didn't like this idea, and immediately said, "I can take it." He readied his hands to grip the couch if needed, and the automail was trembling gently but the flesh hand was steady.

Roy kissed Ed's neck three times in rapid succession, and Ed glanced back with a quirky smile. "Stop me, if you need to," Roy repeated, speaking slower, and in a kind teasing tone, as if Ed were hard of hearing. Then he brought them together and like his fingers, pushed to make it work.

He held Ed's hip, keeping Ed's pelvis locked in place, and pressed himself inside.

Ed kept perfectly still, turning to stone. The weight of Roy's blanketing body, the hot mist of his exhales, and even the sensation of their skin touching, all went away in the destruction of one, single, burning, inward stab. His mind told him, his skin split open, and blood followed, running gruesomely over private shriveled skin. The insides of him tore like weak meat, the threads of his veins snapping, and stretching to shreds. Ripping the lining and organization of him, and turning him into a bloody casserole with Roy's one, solid, pointed-mass dissecting all of it.

Immediately Ed shifted his legs further apart, trying to accommodate, panicking and scared, but when he moved, his body corrected the imagery, and confirmed he was physically uninjured. The pain didn't stop, no, it grew sharper, but outwardly his skin and composition was fine.

In private hysteria, Ed pressed his face into the couch cushion, and Roy immediately stopped him from further movement with a firm grip.

"Ed, you're doing a great job," Roy said, petting Ed's hair. Ed's body was so tight around Roy's erection the sensation was almost painful, and Roy was panting heavy breaths.

"Are you going in okay!" Ed yelled into the cushion, panicked with the pain of them merging.

Roy nodded, huffing down to Ed's shoulder. "Yes."

"Are you all the way in yet!" Roy knew himself only to be in maybe two inches, and he tried to enter further rather than confess, but Ed broke out squirming.

"Ed, stay still."

Ed groaned a deep-throated sound of miserable complaint into the cushion.

"You're doing great. You feel good, and in a few seconds, I am going to make you feel wonderful."

"You could try doing that now," Ed complained. Roy pushed Ed's bangs from his face so he could see Ed's profile. Then he leaned to Ed's tight expression and kissed Ed's temple repeatedly as he embedded himself. Ed gripped the couch with white knuckles, and gritted his teeth hard enough Roy through he'd crack a tooth, but stayed quiet.

"I am in," Roy said, when he made it. He felt like he'd just slid into the best mouth of his life, and this blow job was nearly killing him. "You're so damn tight, I could come just sitting here."

"Wouldn't that be selfish of you," Ed croaked, struggling for jokes.

Roy laughed and gave Ed's temple one last kiss. "I'll stay still so you can adjust." Ed glanced back with a bit of confusion; as if he were unaware his body needed time to adapt, and his eyes were red rimmed. They looked as if they should be full of tears, and after last night Roy felt his uncertainty regarding their merger haunt him. He knew the entrance would be worse than that in the car, simply because Ed was still sore, but frankly he was impressed with the boy's stamina, both with pain, as well as endurance.

"In a moment…." Roy said, trying to catch his breath. Ed's body had a power over him, and unfortunately it was channeling into a very sensitive and distracting place. "…we'll start a rhythm." Ed said nothing, and Roy slid his hand down Ed's chest to Ed's erection. It had softened, but hadn't disappeared, and Ed jerked when Roy took hold. "Let's make this harder, shall we?" Roy asked. Ed squeaked with a bit of humiliation, but Roy ignored it. He started a fast hand job, and Ed curled his automail into a fist so tight two of his metal fingers ripped into the couch and tore like a cat's claws. Roy laughed into the back of Ed's neck. "You're ripping your couch," he said, enjoying himself. Ed's penis was comfortable to hold. It hardened quickly, and every time he stroked to the head, Ed whimpered the tiniest of sounds in the back of his throat.

Embedded and stationary, listening to Ed's small mewls of pleasure, Roy felt the dim flicker of a new, but very specific, sensation rise up inside him. It had a devious overture, and drove him towards something more aggressive and…raunchy. It was odd, and having no time to categorize it, he shoved it aside, dropped Ed's cock, and slid his hand to hold Ed's hips.

He began a rhythm that was slow and delicate. He thrust in gently, and Ed groaned when he buried himself, and gasped for air as he pulled back. Roy felt like an old motor starting up slow, and he kept his eyes tightly closed, his lip bit, and his mind as focused on Ed as he could. He felt like he was fucking the side of his fist, and the waves of pleasure this brought, were almost maddening. It took everything to keep him from leaning back on his legs and pistoning for all his worth. He had to believe there was room enough in Ed for his cock, but not a millimeter more.

"How do you feel?" Roy asked, after a minute of slow going it. He was speeding up. Ed turned his face to the side, and his mouth was permanently open and full with panting breaths. His expression was twisted up as if he'd sneeze and Roy had no way of knowing if this was in pleasure or pain. "Ed?" He brushed Ed's bangs back from his cheek. Ed was beginning to sweat heavily, and his back was shimmering in the light. "Ed? I am telling you right now," he said, leaning down, and lowering his voice. "You feel fantastic, and I'd fuck you all day if I thought you could take it."

Ed was hearing Roy, although he seemed incapable of answering. His only response was to curl his flesh hand tighter to his face, and squeak a soft sound directly into it. Roy narrowed his eyes when he heard this. It fed that carnal part of him he didn't recognize, but loved upon introduction. He reached back to Ed's hair and rested his hand in it. "How's it feel?" he asked, gently grasping a fist full of Ed's strands. "Answer."

"…ahmgood," Ed managed, swallowing heavily and tightening his expression. A moment ago it looked as if Ed were about to sneeze, with his eyebrows raised but tight, and his mouth open. Now it looked like he just had, and his eyes were jammed together and his teeth were grit.

"Yes," Roy said, tightening his grasp in Ed's hair. "You like it. Look at me Ed," he said, strengthening his tone. Ed's hair felt beautiful beneath his fingers, and he was in love with how soft it was until he felt the deep yearning desire to yank it. Breathing hard, Roy firmed his voice and commanded, "Look at me, I said." He jerked Ed's head back like a rider rears a horse by the reins, fisting Ed's hair, and Ed startled so violently the twitch of his entire body felt like a vibration into Roy's cock.

Ed's eyes opened and jumped to Roy with a bit of alarm, but all Ed saw in Roy's gaze was lust. They were leaving the realm of rationality, and entering that of desire. They were finding the magic Ed had been weeding out, and Ed licked his lips feeling powerless to stop his own entrance, and oddly desiring of what could be Roy's crazy side.

"That's it," Roy said softly, dragging his hand down Ed's face. "Now you're getting it." Lust, aching, and envious, and filthy, was blooming in Ed's eyes. It caused a foggy detached expression. Unconsciously, Ed was curling his lips back from his teeth like a rabid dog, and it was an invitation to fight, to wrestle, and Roy loved it. "Get your ass up."

Ed's brow furrowed with uncertainty. "What?"

"If you're not scared, get your ass up. Get up on your knees." Roy moved back an inch and began lifting Ed's hips.

Ed's legs were stiff from holding his weight, some of Roy's weight, and the pressure from their thrusting. He tried to oblige, lifting them a few inches, but Roy was not satisfied. "Higher," Roy said. He gave Ed a single fierce yank, and put Ed on his knees with his head in the couch. Then Roy raised to his own and spread his palms across the top of Ed's cheeks and lower back.

Ed looked beautiful bent over with his dampening hair sprawled about his sweat streaked shoulders. Penetration from this angle was smooth, and Ed gargled a noise with Roy's first few plunges.

"…Roy," Ed croaked, managing his bearings after ten seconds of Roy mechanically pounding his rear with new mobility and strength. It felt like Roy was able to infiltrate for miles, and surely as far as his small intestine. The sensation was hard to understand, and might only be describe as a voracious gluttony, obsessed for more with each bit received. Ed relaxed his muscles, and tried to invite, if not urge, Roy to continue as much as he was able.

"How's that feel?" Roy asked, voice haughty with his own imperious ego.

"I feel like a bitch!" Ed shifted uncomfortably. Roy's thrusts made him frantic to scratch the same itch Roy was scratching, but the position was frightening to him. It gave him the sense of being chased down, captured, and railed. No matter how much he liked it, he wasn't comfortable with liking it like this. It delved up questions about his psyche that confused him. Why, over all positions, was he being satisfied on his knees with Roy plungering him, and not somehow better engaged? This disturbed him privately as greatly as it would announcing such to an open room. "I wanted to have collaborative sex!" Ed cried. "Not be your free pony ride! I want to move!"

Mustang chuckled a low, devious sound, and without missing a beat, said, "No you don't."

Ed grunted a noise of irritation. Anger seemed impossible with his dick the color of a tomato, and the rapture of it leaking down to the couch, but Ed tried. _He tried hard. _"Don't…tell me…" he managed, voice bouncing with Roy's tempo. "…what…I want."

"You won't want to move," Roy said, rephrasing as he bent down over the slope of Ed's body. He slowed his thrusts, and without Ed aware, Ed turned his ass up, begging for the faster speed to be replaced. He whimpered a sound of loss, but looked back with insult. He thought the position degraded him. Forced him into the stereotypically limp role of a witless cell, with pulse, but no constitution, possessed in dominance for brief, careless, and single-sided gratification. The position transcended gender, to form that of the impotently feeble, of the low hierarchy animal. _He wasn't having sex, he was being fucked!_

Roy didn't see it this way because he did not read into it. There was nothing to read, there was nothing of sophistication, or civilization to learn here. This was day one with Darwin. The most basic act and repertoire of the nervous system, and with complete confidence and simplified bliss he said, "You look good on your knees Ed." Then he slipped his hand down Ed's right cheek, snaked it beneath the boy, and gripped Ed's ragging erection.

They're bodies were slick with sweat, and Ed's bangs were plastered to his forehead. With the sudden arrival of Roy's hand, Ed's right eye gave a twitch, and he looked down, panting into the couch and staring at the sight between his legs.

"You're amazing," Roy whispered. He stroked down Ed's shaft slowly, and Ed shivered. "I am going to beat-your-meat while I finish fucking you, and you're going to like it," he said, grinning. A bead of sweat rolled from his forehead to the tip of his nose and he ignored it. "You're going to like it, and you're going to beg for it."

Ed was panting almost uncontrollably, but he managed a soft and muffled, "Beg?"

"You feel okay?"

"Fuck yeah." Ed flashed a cocky devilish smile.

"Good."

Roy leaned back and finished the deed. The sensation of Ed's unwilling ass was amazing. Every thrust in was an offensive assault. Roy had to shove to get inside and stay there, and Ed took it.

Ed hung onto the couch armrest for dear life, his automail hand tearing into it as if each metal digit were a claw. Ed never verbally begged, but he did physically. Ed lifted himself so he was easy to access, and reached back when they grew fast. Grabbing at his own cheek, Ed moaned loudly, and Roy caught the boy drooling a bit.

Roy broke concentration on Ed only a few times and for only brief seconds when things were their most intense. He struggled the entirety to keep the tight strokes and fast pace from consuming him, and when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, he put the rest of him into Ed's hand job. He wanted them to climax together.

Ed yelled with the fervid sensation molesting him both internally and externally. The addition of Roy's hand took things to a place that murdered all senses but the few in hot obsessive use. Without realizing Ed lost his hearing, his eyes permanently closed, and his jaw locked so tight his molars would later ache.

In dizzying excitement, Roy forced Ed to admit he liked the position with the ease of commanding a drunk. Ed was so consumed he might have confessed anything, and while drooling down to the couch, Ed used Roy's words, and said he liked his "dirty slut position."

Roy sped up for his finale, and gave Ed what he was tempted to call a pounding. He held Ed tight, careful to control his own momentum, and the bouncing lunge of Ed's body. The force was great enough Ed's bangs were swinging under the velocity of their joint movement, and their wet skin slapped loudly.

The ending was quick and gratifying. Ed ejaculated to the couch and Roy followed. Afterward Roy latched his right hand to the top of the couch to keep from collapsing onto Ed entirely, and Ed slumped forward as if he'd just taken a bullet in the head.

Directly after they finished there was nothing but silence and panting. Roy's heart was slamming in his chest, and he racked a distracted hand through his hair. His roots puffed away from his scalp and spiked in all directions. _It made him smile._

"Ed," Roy said. His voice came out raspy, and he cleared it. "You okay?" He dropped his hand to Ed's lower back and rubbed gently. "You got off, right?" Ed's eyes were closed and he was struggling to breathe, as if he'd run for miles.

Ed answered in a slow nod before brushing his wet hair from his face. Strands stuck to his cheek and forehead like wet blades of yellow grass.

Roy shifted back to detach, but the minute he moved, Ed startled. Ed jerked all limbs outward, as if Roy had just slid back in, rather than simply shifted his weight. Ed didn't seem aware they were still connected until Roy tried to withdraw.

"You're still inside?" Ed asked, voice rushed and humiliated.

"Easy." Roy held Ed's hips firmly, worried Ed might move while he was so vulnerable. Carefully, he pulled back. His erection had faded, and getting out was much easier than getting in, but Ed didn't like it. He recoiled from the sensation, grunting uncomfortably, and pulled away the minute they were separate beings. Ed rolled to his side, tucking his legs upward, and winding his ankles directly below his rear for modest recovery.

Roy sat back on the couch, still catching his breath, and watched Ed pet his wet and tangled hair into messy order. Ed's body was glazed over, and his cheeks and lips looked stained red. In every sense of the word Ed was glowing, but Roy still had to ask. "You feel okay?" Ed nodded sloppily. "You sure?" Ed kept nodding. "Okay, come here."

Roy leaned forward, and slid down alongside Ed. He pulled Ed's light frame into himself and hugged the boy to his chest. "Now we rest."

Ed closed his eyes with a faint smile. "That…went well."

Roy gave a nod and for several long minutes they enjoyed motionless, thoughtless, peace. Ed cleared his throat a few times, and Roy let his breathing ease, before he broke the silence.

"My sister has a rescue cat; she's had it for a few years," Roy said. "Her pity grants it a diet of human food." Ed snickered. "The cat's tiny, probably from malnourishment, but naturally very feisty." Ed lifted his flesh hand and wiped his face a few times, clearing away the drying sweat before wiping at his nose. "I had to cat-sit for her once, and she forgot to warn me she had spoiled the cat beyond reason, and I brought it cat food."

Ed laughed. "Wouldn't eat it?"

"Not only would it not eat it, it sat before its bowl waiting patiently and sniffing the dry food looking offended, before staring up at me and giving this…squeaking drawling cry in one solid pitch, as if it found the dry food tormenting." Ed laughed, and again brushed his wet bangs from his face. Roy looked down at Ed, and inquisitively Ed looked up. "That's what you sounded like when you came." Ed frowned, and smacked Roy's chest playfully. "You gave this adorable little cry, and then your entire body shuttered." Ed smacked Roy again, and this time it was harder. Faking an exaggerated cough Roy gave his ribs a rub and said, "Guess I'll change the subject."

Roy stretched out and glanced around them. It was odd to think sex was their late afternoon, and beginning of evening was now the open, well lit Elric living room where they lay naked. "Do you mind if I shower here?" Roy asked, shrugging away and sitting up. His body was sticky with sweat, and Ed's skin didn't want to give him up. They clung together.

Ed pointed toward the bathroom. "Towels are under the sink. Help yourself." Ed's breathing was still elevated, and he looked too spent to move. Lazy scratching at his damp chest, Roy looked at Ed, and considered the boy. Nudity could change someone. Some people altered almost entirely, as if their familiar head had been set on something else, but Ed retained his identity. The automail was rather abrasive looking, and Ed's chest held some heavy scars, but the rest of him was well compact and high quality.

"What?" Ed asked, tolerating the stare for only a short few seconds. "Is there something on my face?"

"Yes."

Ed lifted his flesh hand and scrubbed with his palm. Roy laughed, and leaned down before planting a quick kiss on the tip of Ed's nose. Playfully he said, "It's called Adorable-After-Sex."

Ed shoved Roy away with a grin. "Ugh, what a stupid thing to—go away," Ed teased.

Roy stood up in all his naked glory and cracked his neck. "Okay, I am going to shower."

Ed managed a nod, while struggling to keep eye contact. His curiosity was overpowering, and no matter how fast the glance, or how quick Ed tried to hide it, he couldn't help himself, he looked. Up and down, several times, quickly, bashfully, and Roy endured it, grinning, and completely aware. When you did what they just did, you gained certain rights, and the right to look at the person you just slept with, or what you just slept with, was one of them.

"You're flattering me," Roy said kindly, before pointing to Ed's discarded pants. "Now don't do anything without me," he teased. "I know everything's accessible, but I would find it insulting if you felt need to rub one off and marinate your couch anymore than you already have."

Ed yanked a pillow over his face with embarrassment, and pointed toward the bathroom. "Okay! Just go! Stop standing around naked!" Roy laughed. "Seriously, go!" Ed ordered.

Ed listened to Roy leave, and when the bathroom door shut behind Roy's footsteps, he sat up and collected himself. After what they had done much of him felt warmed to the bone in a good and very unfamiliar way, but other places felt sore and achy. Carefully Ed slid to the edge of the couch and examined himself visually. For all the tingling, and slight stinging, and general feeling of being rubbed too hard with something wet, he looked to be in perfect order. Self conscious, even with absolute privacy, he groped lightly for reassurance everything was still properly attached. His skin was so sensitive even the touch of his own fingers felt unusual, and the discovery of oil where he felt the sorest was disgusting. Irritably, Ed wiped his hand on the couch, and reached for pizza. He emptied all three cups of soda, and crammed two slices into his mouth when Roy finally turned on the tub water.

Ed's bathroom was very small. Military barracks found no luxury necessary, and provided tiny functional facilities, with the same standard white sink, toilet, and tub, in each apartment. Every design had the same cubic feet, cost, and furnishings. Roy had seen new units go up, and during the construction and final stages, it resembled a hotel of identical rooms. Until the assigned soldiers completely destroyed the perfection, things were so identically flawless it was unsettling.

The Elric's had done this to their bathroom. The small white tiled space had been invaded by two boys who had not previously owned a bathroom. For this reason the towels did not match, and Alphonse was filling the place with traditional bachelor provisions, and Ed was turning it into a car garage. There was cologne and hair gel crammed onto the tiny provided counter along side brillo pads, two bottles of what looked like an engine oil, and automail tools Roy didn't recognize. Cast aside in the mess was Alphonse's spare military ID, and a cup with five toothbrushes. The hybrid of hygiene and mechanic supplies made Roy unsure of what to touch. He selected the only white towel and tried to start the shower.

Something about the Elric shower unit looked, a bit manipulated. Roy found it skeptical the bathtubs purchased by the military would be as deep as Ed's, and with irritation, he couldn't figure out how to move the water pressure from the tub to the shower head. There was only one knob, and he turned it both ways, on and off, three times before Ed knocked and opened the door.

Ed had put his pants back on and was eating a slice of pizza with his hair in a pony tail. Chewing with an open mouth, and cocky grin, he asked, "Are we bathing impaired?"

"This place looks like a car shop." Roy gestured rudely to the tub, and Ed stepped up and slapped the knob in kicking the shower into gear.

"It's an idiot proof shower," Ed said, raising his voice over the stream of spraying water.

"A what?" Roy asked, realizing as he spoke, the question, and Ed's comment, was pointless. He gave Ed's wide grin a scolding look, and was comfortably entertained. It was almost obvious Ed would return to stereotypical office mockery, in which one of Ed's famous games was to sneak in comments while Roy was preoccupied, and hopefully, get Roy to either agree or acknowledge. Tricking a colonel wasn't easy, and managing was much like luring a lion to open its mouth with a leg of lamb, before quickly swapping your head in-and-out before the jaws could close. The soldiers respected it, and Fullmetal had earned himself a reputation for being really quick with his head swapping.

Ed moved serious flawlessly, and indicated the shampoo and soap in the shower. "Use whatever you want. This stuff is mine, but we don't mind." Ed's shampoo bottle looked unrecognizable to Roy. It was a larger white bottle with a black cap and tiny black font. What was Alphonse's seemed more inviting because it looked boring, basic, and was blue.

Roy tested the water with his hand and prepared to step in. "Get in with me," he said. Ed stopped chewing as if his brain hit the brakes and came to a screeching halt. Roy nodded toward the running water. "Come on, get in with me. You need to shower anyway. It will be fun."

* * *

Well my lovely readers, that was chapter three. I hope you enjoyed!

Chapter 4: _The Natural order of Events_, I am sorry to say will be up 7/12/13…because I am going away for the 4th of July, and I assume many of you will also have plans. To be honest when I started posting I scheduled only one week breaks between chapters as always, and completely forgot the holiday (and my possible Sept vacation) when I started posting so…but I am hoping this will be the last two week break we'll have.

This chapter was super long! So I am starving and need review-cookies to keep me going! Please let me know what you thought of this…with all that happened, at least one thought popped in there. : ) Go ahead and share.

See you all after the 4th, enjoy yourselves!


	4. The Natural Order of Events

This chapter is rated MA for Mature Sexual Content, Graphic Scenes, and Yaoi Material  
Reader discretion advised

* * *

Foolish For You  
Chapter Four  
_The Natural Order of Events_

- mirage -

The running shower was kicking steam into Ed's tiny bathroom, and Roy held the curtain back in silent suggestion they both enter.

Ed was considering, gaze narrowed with slow and uncertain contemplation, and cheeks fat with pizza. His chewing slowed, as if his thoughts were sapping his energy and attention, and then he swallowed, and nodded. "Okay," Ed said.

Roy stepped into the shower and sought out the warm stream. He wetted down, and tipped his hair into it quickly. Showering with another person was not as relaxing as showering by yourself, but it did offer several perks.

Ed followed, climbing into the tub, wiping at his mouth, and pulling his hair tie free. It took his pony tail to the side and released a cascade of blonde strains to Ed's shoulders with Ed shaking his head like a dog. "You go first," Ed said, gesturing to the water, with the beginning of a new blush tinting his cheeks.

The innocence of this comment caused a wide smile to break across Roy's face, and he said, "We go at the same time." He stepped to the side so his right shoulder was under the spray, and the left was open for Ed.

Ed did not look overly pleased, but standing naked, stiff, and dry, in an environment where he was usually wet, Ed came forward eagerly. Quickly he ducked under the spray and wet his hair and body, before grabbing the available bar of soap.

Ed began a private, and solo, bathing routine, washing himself down as if coated in mud. Ed's movements were sped up. Showering with spectators, even when comfortable, always added a bit of haste luxurious private bathing did not. Ed fell into the learned familiar routine of blocking out the room, and intently focusing on his task, almost at once. This was so innocently sweet, it almost drowned out the odd sense of neglect. _Almost._

Without warning, Roy stepped forward. Ed was going to wash and leave, just like he did after military drills, Roy was certain of there was something oddly pleasurable about being clumped in with the foolhardy soldiers Ed had showered with for years,Roy planned to narrow shower could not accommodate his movement, and he intentionally walked into Ed, so Ed stepped back, and became flush with the wall.

Coated in bubbles, Ed managed a fast, "What the heck?" before Roy crushed their mouths together. The strength painlessly knocked Ed's head into the tile, and Ed grabbed Roy's shoulders with surprise, while Roy grabbed Ed's waist with desire. The crisp smell of musky soap was assaulting in the rising steam, and even so close together there was no hint of Ed's natural smell. For the moment, Ed was squeaky clean, and Roy was delighted.

He kissed Ed harshly. The water pelted down on them like rain, and the sound of it was a cradling hum. The sweet and caring charm to woo the boy from the couch was gone. This was carnal lust, and Roy pulled back and locked his gaze with Ed's bewildered expression and said, "Do you really plan to stand here and rub yourself silly with soap?" Ed looked dazed, unable to find the question offensive, but feeling as if it should be when he was doing only what was appropriate in a shower. "And think you'll get away with it?" Roy added, playfully. "Are you doing it on purpose?" _Was Ed? _"Are you asking to go again?"

"Again?" Ed repeated softly, growing a bit wide-eyed. "In the shower?" he asked, tone faint with curious hesitance. He knew people had sex in showers…but…he had never had sex in a shower.

"Lots of people do-it in the shower." Roy gave an instructional nod to the side. "Turn around."

"Hey," Ed said, with sudden insult. "No, I am showering. I have to wash my hair."

"What?"

Ed pointed at the wet hair plastered to his skull, and repeated, "I have to wash my hair." The automail hand came up and pressed Roy back a step. "I have a thing about bathing Roy, and this is it: _let me do it._" Ed wiggled to the side to put more space between them before grabbed his shampoo. "When I am done we can consider whatever shower activities you have in mind. I've…" Ed trailed off, grabbing some shampoo. "I've never…really done anything in a shower before." The tiny blush was back.

Absolutely stunned with rejection, Roy's gaze dropped directly to Ed's genitals. _Was Ed erect? Or was his focus on washing so overpowering he could flat-out ignore sexual invitation!_

Ed was more than just excited, he was nearly vertical, but Ed slapped a hand over himself with outrage Roy's response was a single crude desire. "Hey Roy, what the hell!" Ed was offended, as if they'd never seen each other naked, as if they hadn't done what they'd just done. "This can be the first and last shower we ever take together, get it?" Ed asked, moving further to the other side of the tub.

Roy said exactly what was on his mind. "I can't believe you're talking and moving around with that kind of an erection."

Ed scowled. He uncapped his shampoo and drizzled it into his flesh hand. "Well, I am a bit more evolved than a primate, thank you."

"Well, you could be furiously beating it for my entertainment." _Or for Ed's own entertainment, or because this was the time to do so if you wanted to be watched, or because this was the time to do so if you wanted help doing so!_

Ed began scrubbing his head with a heavy sigh, and said flatly, "I am going to get out." He gave Roy an unwavering glare of mild annoyance. "Or kick you out, I don't care which."

Roy was silent. Ed seemed to desire the shower space Roy consumed, and held impressive discipline over his arousal. The level of command and focus was senior in skill, something that should have been unmanageable for a youth like Edward, whose cells and genetics were at the age of hysteria, and desperate to populate. Briefly, Roy wondered if something about Ed's willpower was what incited Alphonse to encourage Ed to abandon it. _Had Ed trained himself too severely in one direction? _

Briefly, Roy also tried to consider how much of Ed might be devoted to bathing, but his memories did not suggest Ed was a clean-freak. He had seen the boy at headquarters engaged with the other soldiers. Ed became dirty and sweaty, and seemed to take no abnormal notice. The men had a habit of starting makeshift football games in the spring, and he'd seen Ed playing and getting muddy. When Ed was younger he kept an eye out for these games because they made him nervous. Not for Ed's wellbeing, but for his own. If his young subordinate was being bullied into the ground while the men were playing football that would cause problems for him. Likewise, if the men despised Ed because he was younger, or because he wasn't doing things they could relate to, such as drinking alcohol and screwing women, that would also be difficult.

Ironically, the same soldier who helped acclimate Ed into the men so as to never experience this ostracism, was later responsible for Ed's first hang over, and several other undisclosed ordeals which said soldier sometimes vaguely referenced in the office to make Ed uncomfortable. _Thank you, Jean Havoc._

Roy broke a small private grin with the thought of what he would have done those short years ago if someone had briefed him to the fact Ed would in fact not be screwing women, but engaged in the dangerous political game of screwing his commanding officer. _Aka: Flame Alchemist Colonel Roy Mustang. _

Ed glanced over with Roy's sudden smile, and with a cold flat tone droned out, "What?"

Roy's smile grew. Ed was scrubbing his head into a nest full of bubbles. Off the tip of his nose a steady drip of water was running like the shower head. "Why is it you become the most appealing during mundane tasks, and seem rather ordinary doing unusual tasks? Is it the forbearing sarcasm?"

"Ordinary?" Ed stopped scrubbing and broke a wide confident smile. "I think you mean spectacular." Roy laughed. "I am not so modest I haven't noticed I am jacked." Ed indicated his gladiator abdominals with a flattering wag of his finger. _Hidden benefit of carrying automail, your core had to support it – no matter what._ "At the very least, I look good enough for a military hero to ambush rudely while I try to shower." Ed was grinning: _ego growing quickly_. "Good enough even you can't keep your hands off me."

_Even you_, Ed's words echoed in Roy's mind, pumping his confidence like a balloon. Even you, as in, even the top of the top, even the cream of the crop, even the person I want to notice most of all, _even you._

"Yes, even me," Roy said softly. He stepped purposefully to Ed's side, and Ed paused in his scrubbing. "Let me," Roy said, watching a fat white bubble slide down Ed's temple with the sensual speed of a graceful pet. Ed pulled his fingers from his hair, but with uncertainty didn't lower his hands. "Don't scold me for interrupting you. You're interrupting my shower as much I am interrupting yours," Roy said kindly. "We're showering together Ed. That means routines are different."

Ed obliged, he lowered his hands looking nervous, and the tiny blush of embarrassment was back, but so was the eager hope filled spark. The darkening to Ed's iris's that made his eyes hungry with craving, and Roy thought he knew what for: _affection._

The word noncommittal flouted through Roy's mind as he slid his strong fingers into Ed's wet hair. Next came the word temporary, they were his words, spoken just a bit ago, in front of Ed's couch with them both decent. He had presented them clearly, and Ed had accepted, but now Ed's eyes were betraying him.

Gracefully Roy began a soft massaging scrub on Ed's scalp. The room was full of mist and the smell of cleanliness. Showers were no place for serious topics, and Roy let himself forget what he may or may not be doing and just enjoy. _They would have to leave the shower eventually, and the world could come back then._

"Do you enjoy having long hair?" Roy asked curiously.

"Do you enjoy having short hair?" Ed asked, quick with the response, but visibly relaxed. His shoulders had drooped, and his eyes had closed. "I don't know if I'd use the word enjoy," Ed said, answering seriously. Roy took a glance over Ed's shoulder to Ed's erection, and it was almost entirely faded. Miffed, he returned his gaze to Ed's head and the small leak of bubbles traveling down the back of Ed's neck. _Senior in skill._

More irritated than anything, Roy gave his hands a strong press-inward and drag-backward through Ed's bangs, but Ed enjoyed it. Ed's head followed the motion and he smiled sleepily. _The same smile that came with kisses._ Quickly, Roy repeated the motion and was rewarded with a small sigh of appreciation.

"This feels so good," Ed said, voice barely a whisper.

Roy moved quickly. He kept his strength, but moved it to Ed's muscles. He pressed into Ed's neck and shoulders, swiping up and down from washing hair and spreading bubbles, and Ed was falling apart. His body was limp with enjoyment. When he muttered a soft, "This feels so good," something came over Roy, and he stopped washing and abruptly enveloped Ed in his arms.

Somehow, Ed wasn't surprised. He gave no response other than a second content sigh. "Roy?" Ed asked, tone deep with intimate sincerity. Things were more than, this-feels-so-good-you're-stroking-my-dick, it was a, this-feels-so-good-you're –stroking-my-heart. "What are you doing?" Ed asked softly, voice practically trembling between warning alarm and desperate desire. "When you…" Ed's brow twisted up painfully.

"It's all right," Roy said, and he knew. Knew the cuddling Ed was seeking was this. The attention, the desire, it wasn't physical, it was mental. Ed was looking for something beyond companionship from him, something beyond acceptance, Ed was looking for him to want and fear the same. The yang to the yin, and in the shower mist it was a bit dizzying.

_Showers were no place for serious topics. _

Roy reached down quickly, petting his hand down Ed's chest, over the deep red line of Ed's scratched body, through his pubic hair, and grasped Ed's erection with tight, frantic, need.

_SHOWERS WERE NO PLACE FOR SERIOUS TOPICS._

Ed's hips jerked, and his body spasmed as if jolted at the core of his nervous system. Roy's gripping hand, destroyed where they were, and sent them flinging in uncontrollable velocity toward something else. Away from serious, outward toward lust.

Quick. Quick. Quick. Roy was stroking fast, and Ed's chest went forward as if caught in a Heimlich grip, and gurgled a sound of blinding pent up frustration. His flesh hand dove at Roy's, gripping it, squeezing it, urging it onward, and begging it to stop at the same time. Ed didn't want to leave where they were, but the chemistry of his body could not refuse. He ran willingly, carelessly, frolicking into lust with open arms and wide shinning eyes. Quick! Quick! There was no time for anything else! There was no time for the collective process of one single thought!

The apartment door opened and shut, and it had the effect of a gunshot. They both froze.

Alone in the apartment, secluded in their own private world, they had left the bathroom door open, the living room destroyed, evidence of every fancy blatantly in sight!

A shadow fell over the shower curtain for the brief moment someone passed by the open bathroom door, and then Alphonse called a happy, "Hi nii-san!"

Ed balked with enough strength to choke up his heart. His jaw dropped open, and Roy's motionless hand was paused half way through a stroke.

"The—the bathroom door's open!" Ed whispered in panic. Roy didn't know what to say to this. He hadn't intended to stay until Alphonse came home.

Alphonse returned to the bathroom doorway and his shadow darkened the front of the shower curtain. "Nii-san," Alphonse said, voice now overcome with a bit of cautious skepticism. "Are you alone in there?"

"N—Yes!" Ed called, slapping at a migration of bubbles breaching his forehead. "Yes, course I am!" Ed bit his fist directly after this lie, and Roy could almost envision Ed doing this in the office. This was the mental response Ed had each time he boldly blurted false fact with absolute inconceivability to reason.

Alphonse entered the bathroom and went to the sink. "Nii-san, we need to clean this mess." Roy heard Alphonse pluck up one of the many toothbrushes and drop it back with discouragement. "I mean, what about the toothbrushes? Can't we throw some out?"

Roy looked down at his guilty hand. In all respects of life, he would by generality consider himself a kind person, and so he felt the beginning of distant remorse when he slowly, _ever so slowly_, slid his hand up the remainder of Ed's length, and gave Ed's plump head a playful squeeze.

Ed flinched so hard he would have fallen without Roy's restraint. Immediately the automail elbow jerked back in a painful explosion of metal pole meets flesh ribs, and Roy knew the pain was on purpose. _Distant remorse was not enough to pass up this opportunity._

Coughing gently, in air alone, Roy carefully stroked back down Ed's length. _There,_ his action said, _suck on that._

Ed's hips went forward into Roy's grasp, and the automail hand came crashing down on the forearm Roy had wrapped about Ed's chest. Ed was snorting air like a bull, and every muscle of his back and shoulders had tensed for a rippling dance that couldn't have made Roy happier. It was like taking first shot at a target, and hitting the bulls eye.

"Nii-san," Alphonse said impatiently. "The toothbrushes?"

"No!" Ed cried, tone far too aggressive. Ed had more to say, and started what might have been an opening for the word 'the,' before Roy evilly stroked back up. "Al! Alphonse!" Ed cried, frantic. "Can't you just get out of here!"

Alphonse was struck speechless and confused on the other side of the curtain. Puzzled, he stepped closer, and with a tone of disbelief asked, "What nii-san?"

Ed was going to be livid about all of this, Roy found that reasonable, if not predictable, and so he set out to finish the deed. He had already committed the offensive transgression of molesting Ed a few feet from his unsuspecting brother, so the damage was done, continuing came at zero consequence. The idea this opportunity would ever present itself again, was as laughably insane as the idea this opportunity had ever presented itself to begin with.

Quickly, Roy locked Ed flush to his chest with his left arm, and began a steady beat with this right hand. The automail fingers closed down like stabbing metal teeth, and Ed's mouth stretched open in a silent scream. His flesh hand dove into the masturbation, fighting Roy off with angry shoves, but Roy wasn't going to be discouraged. When he was slapped aside, he moved his hand. He was wet and soapy, and spitefully slid his palm down Ed's naked right cheek with the tips of his fingers in all the soft private places he was certain Ed did not want prodded at this moment.

Ed tipped his head down, lowered his voice, and snarled at Roy, "I am going to fucking kill you."

"What?" Alphonse asked, sounding as if he may have heard one or two words and was now becoming concerned. "Nii-san, are you okay?"

"I am fine!" Ed cried, angrily. "Just let me take a shower! Okay—just let me—me take a shower!" Ed was forcing his flesh elbow back, trying to separate himself from Roy and save his rear.

Struggling to keep them both on their feet without laughing, Roy was losing his hand coordination, and victory looked within Ed's reach.

"Get out and shut the door!" Ed yelled.

"Why are you so upset?" Alphonse asked, sounding more baffled than slighted.

"I am not upset! Just, _please!"_

Roy paused, that beg was for him. Ed glanced back quickly to confirm, but nothing fed Roy's libido faster than Ed begging, and he continued.

"Come on," Ed whined. "Just please—come on, please."

Alphonse stepped back from the shower curtain with immediate insult. Sounding down right pissed, he said, "Nii-san, I am leaving." His stomping footfalls were easy to hear. "Whatever you're doing, do it by yourself." Alphonse slammed the door behind him, and yelled a mocking, "Have fun!" sounding none too kind.

The minute Alphonse was gone, Ed snarled a frazzled, "What is wrong with you!" Roy returned quickly to his hand job under basic instinct to finish something he was doing, and Ed was huffing frantically. "That's my brother!" Ed managed, voice horribly strained.

Roy found this hysterically funny, and sputtered a wobbling laugh that sent Ed reeling with rage.

"You're a fucking asshole!" Ed was quivering with his arousal. His face was clouded with lust, but his was unable to surrender his anger.

"You don't mean that," Roy teased, stroking faster.

"I," Ed managed, trying to argue under the sensation of someone pulling the blood cork in his neck. _The head was emptying, becoming dizzy, and it was all draining down between our legs._ "I do mean that," Ed said, panting viciously. "I do…mean…"

"You know what I think?" Roy asked, tone of calm conversation. "I think you like me stroking your cock." Roy could feel Ed's hostility as much as he could Ed's current handicap. "I think you like it so much you'd beg me for it."

"Fuck you." Ed reached down and tried to touch himself for the first time, but Roy slapped Ed's hand away.

"Roy please," Ed choked, asking for mercy.

"Yes, that's it," Roy teased. Ed's anger went spiking, warming the air between them and Roy ducked his head into Ed's neck to muffle his soft laughs. Ed was pissed with this and tried to shoulder free. "Beg," Roy said, muffling his words into Ed's skin with a wide smile. "Beg me for it Ed. Say, please sir, just like a good little alchemist."

"Little?" Ed seethed. "What the fuck? Fucking shit, I am not fucking little!"

Roy couldn't take it. He didn't slow his hand for anything. The angle was a bit difficult and his muscle was feeling the strain, but it was striking Ed could continue conversation like this!

Ed's legs were weak with his intoxicating arousal, and he was making more noise than Roy believed Ed could have been comfortable with considering Alphonse was now home. Inside the stream of the water it seemed horribly loud, and Roy shuffled Ed's weight quickly, managing with his left hand and getting his right back behind Ed. He wanted this to be good considering the current comparison was sex on the couch, and he brought his wet fingers back to Ed's rear and tickled gently.

The automail foot found the top of Roy's so fast, Roy sucked in a sudden breath of pain, and sputtered a quick, "Ed, don't press."

"The…irony," Ed croaked.

Roy managed his laughs to himself, and with wise caution withdrew his right hand. He finished the hand-job with Ed beginning a low hum like an old motor churning to a full power. Ed's climax was a silent, aneurysm-inducing spasm, that jettisoned his elation to the other side of the tub, and then became the hyper-panting of a drowning victim.

Ed collapsed, and Roy broke out laughing softly. Ed was entirely slack in Roy's arms, panting like he'd run a marathon. Even though it seemed genuine, Ed's response was rather dramatic, and Roy teased a harmless, "Flattery. As if it was your first hand job."

"S-shut up," Ed managed. "That wasn't my first fucking hand job." Ed rinsed himself clean at the speed of light, and angrily announced, "I am getting out!" while climbing out.

Roy resumed his shower with a quiet smile of self-satisfaction.

Ed was towelling off quickly. Standing naked on the small bath mat, Ed's pencil thin body was dripping excessively. The automail was shimmering with moisture, and the metal elbow and heel seemed to be leaking in a steady dribble.

Squeezing fistfuls of wet hair into his towel, Ed said "I can't believe you did that with my brother in here!"

"No harm done," Roy said, enjoying the view of Ed's petite physique. With so little body fat, and so much muscle, everything was intensely defined.

Ed's flesh shoulder was tight and his bicep an impressive swell. His abs were leading water like irrigation channels, and the automail arm looked like a metal cast that had soldered on with agonizing finality. It was intimidating, because it didn't change in girth from shoulder, bicep, or forearm, it simply was. The solidarity of the outer shell told you it swung like a mace and took a hit like a champ. With Ed using it to dry his hair, it looked only slightly domesticated.

"So, what's the deal with your brother and his, Assault-On-A-Friendly-Weapon, comments anyway?" Roy asked, dropping his gaze to Ed's leg. The metal was wider than Ed's flesh thigh at the infrastructure, and Ed looked screwed into the abrasive contraption. The joints were too full of nuts and bolts for there downward to be flesh inside, and Ed's metal foot was more a sculpture of how a flesh foot would work than anything aesthetical.

Ed groaned softly and stopped drying his hair. He dragged the towel down his chest and then hunched forward to dry his flesh leg. Ed's scrawny ass was coming to be a place of immense pleasure for Roy, and he let himself take a good long look while Ed was preoccupied.

"He…just thinks I should more…I guess." Ed dried his flesh leg and moved to the automail. He lifted the metal foot and tipped the heel before giving it a quick shake. "That's it." Ed spoke with confidence there was nothing more involved. "You have a brother?"

"No."

Ed stood up, and pulled his hair into a wet pony tail.

"Is Alphonse right?" Roy asked.

Ed wrapped his towel about his waist and muttered, "Who's to say."

"Do you think he is?"

Ed turned to face the shower and was unimpressed with Roy's unbothered staring. "How about I talk to you when you're out," Ed said.

Ed left the bathroom and ran smack into Alphonse, who stood directly in front of the closed door. Still in uniform, Alphonse was holding up a second uniform jacket with two fingers, as if to display a soiled article.

"Nii-san." Alphonse sounded irritated, and took a deep breath. "Someone, _who shall remain nameless_, either left without their clothing, or is still somewhere without them, because they're all over our living room."

Ed snatched Roy's uniform top with an embarrassed smile. "Yeah I…meant to tell you but…and then I was going to call but…." Ed couldn't manage any type of explanation without explaining what they'd done, and he couldn't do it. He skirted Alphonse quickly and left for the bedroom.

Alphonse followed, and lowered his voice discretely. "Do you want me to go?"

Ed entered the bedroom and walked past both twin beds. Alphonse's, being first, was neater, with the boy's dresser at the bottom, and parallel desk. Their beds linked only by the end table between their twins, and Ed stepped over yesterday's clothing, passed his own desk, and went to the closet in the far corner.

"Am I, _interrupting?_" Alphonse asked, stopping in the bedroom doorway, and glancing around uneasily. _After finding someone's complete outfit on the living room floor, no room seemed safe anymore._

Ed disappeared into the small walk in closet. "No, I don't want you to go." He reemerged adjusting boxers at his waist with his towel over his shoulder.

"Well…" Alphonse glanced back over his shoulder at the vacant, albeit messy, apartment. "Where is he then?"

"Shower."

Alphonse's expression went slack with sudden understanding he had walked into a bathroom housing people he didn't know. If the colonel was in the shower now that meant he walked in while the colonel was showering, and showering with his brother, and showering deliberately together, which was a very intimate act, and would interrupt Ed's shower routine, which Ed was rather particular about. _Alphonse was mute._

Ed sunk into his desk chair and picked up his hair dryer. It was nearly buried in the disorganized pandemonium of textbooks, notepads, and scribbled sheets of work. "We made up," Ed said happily.

Alphonse didn't think the shock factor could get any higher. "You did?" _And when exactly had they broken apart? Or come together, to break apart, to rejoin?_

"He came over and said he was sorry." Ed flicked on the hair dryer and began a slow moving blow down his leg. "Knew a lot of weird stuff." Ed looked up with a bright grin. "Brought me stupid flowers."

"You're kidding." Alphonse glanced back over his shoulder. "I saw them on the floor, but…"

"Twelve white roses," Ed said, unable to hide his excitement. He dropped his gaze to his leg with embarrassment. That absurd and frivolous gesture was touching him so personally, and in a way that made him feel so vulnerable, he couldn't discuss it. To think of verbalizing it made him feel like an idiot, and the words went away for nothing but a silly grin. Since when did he give a damn about flowers, or the peddler carrying them? He was the Fullmetal Alchemist, and he didn't need pansy shit like that to know his worth. _Remember that, _Ed though fiercely, fighting the smile that kept trying to sweep across his face. _Remember, you're strong. _

Right now strong was the last word Ed would use to truly describe himself. He felt summarized by cliché: _mushy_, and he hated it, but didn't want it to stop. Right now things felt good, and that meant things were good. Roy hadn't seen him as a piece of meat, they had been confused, but that had been clarified. Roy saw him as a respectable equal, enough so as to…do things like this with.

"Anyway," Ed said, forcing a shrug to escape the soggy feeling of joy. "We made up on the couch."

Alphonse was smiling until he heard this, and then it blinked out of existence. "On the couch?" Alphonse repeated angrily.

"On a blanket on the couch," Ed lied quickly. Alphonse's look of accusing disgust was unmoved, and Ed added a loud, "A blanket on the couch, which we can wash!"

In hindsight maybe it was a bit sloppy and inconsiderate to have sex on a piece of furniture that couldn't be laundered while still expecting other people to live with it, and Ed scowled. Alphonse flawlessly implied this with abject criticism, while doing nothing more than standing mute. Ed changed tactics quickly. "It's my couch anyway."

"You can't lay claim on generic pieces of furniture we don't even own," Alphonse said, tone extremely annoyed. "When this is over, later, we're—you're washing it, and you're telling me which couch so I don't sit there." Ed gave Alphonse a sour look and brought the hair dryer to his automail arm pit. He blew the air downward toward his elbow joint, and a gradual warming sensation grew in his shoulder as the metal heated. "I hope everything is okay now nii-san," Alphonse said, irritation dropping so he simply sounded too tired with the familiar topic to handle otherwise. "You think—this is okay right? Think..." Alphonse trailed off sounding hopeful. "Think it's for real?"

Ed sighed thoughtfully, and turned the hair dryer off. "Yeah, I guess so." In all honesty he felt undecided but willing. "He seems to be serious."

"Well I think that's great nii-san." Alphonse crossed his arms triumphantly. "Should I order in food? Doesn't look like you left me enough pizza." Ed gave his heel a few examining thumps into the floor watching for water. "Aren't you hungry?" Alphonse asked.

Ed turned the hair dryer back on and blew it into his metal knee. Smiling, he gave a short chuckle and said, "I don't know what I am." This was the truth. Many big things had suddenly happened, and they came quickly, without time for absorption.

"Well what about Roy, isn't he hungry? If you guys did-it, shouldn't you be hungry?" Ed blushed and closed his eyes. In so many ways he was thrilled, absolutely ecstatic he'd done what just happened, but at the same time, in so many ways, he was mortified.

Alphonse crossed the room and approached Ed with a wide smile. "You're the best most-modest nii-san ever," Alphonse teased, giving Ed's shoulder a slap.

Ed pushed Alphonse away blushing wildly. "Stop busting on me Alphonse!"

Alphonse left the bedroom laughing and knocked on the bathroom door. Roy was inside drying himself and coming to the conclusion he didn't have clothing, when Alphonse arrived.

"Colonel, it's Alphonse. I just wanted to know if you'd like to stay for dinner, and if you would, what you felt like having?"

Roy wrapped a towel about his waist feeling awkward. This wasn't part of his initial plan. Although Alphonse was courteously pleasant, there was something juvenilely shameful about having your subordinate's brother talk to you while still naked after doing The Nasty.

"Whatever you have will be fine Alphonse," Roy said gracefully. "Thank you."

Alphonse left, and Roy heard Al report this to Ed in a lowered tone the boys thought was inaudible. "I asked him to stay for dinner and he's going to. Guess you kept your manners today , huh nii-san?" Ed snapped an objection. "He said whatever we want for dinner is fine, but he answered with only a low—very sexy low voice, nii-san." A smile could clearly be heard in Alphonse's teasing, and Ed slammed something down and left the bedroom.

Seconds later the automail knocked on the thin wood of the bathroom door, and Roy opened it a crack and let Ed squeeze in.

Ed was still only in boxers, and shut the bathroom door with a quick, "Listen." He looked uncomfortable, and almost nervous for them both. "Um, are you okay with Alphonse here now?" Ed made immediate eye contact, searching Roy for an opinion that might be censured with etiquette, before realizing with an immediate, almost uncontrollable desire, that Roy was still half-dressed and half wet. "I mean," Ed said quickly, gaze dropping with hunger to Roy's broad chest. "I mean." Roy's shoulders were wide, formidable planes carrying the constitution of his pedigree and authority. Ed licked his lips, with his gaze sinking lower to Roy's navel. The bathroom light shaded the contours of Roy's muscles, and exaggerated the scars of fire. _Ed loved them. _His flesh hand lifted with the instinct to touch. To draw the pads of his fingers across the rippling twists of flesh and smooth polished skin, before gaining control, and restraining himself. "I mean, what I mean is that…"

_Mustang had become a goliath in this bathroom_. A Greek statue, not perfect, but left out in poor weather and made imperfect with wear Ed could hungrily relate to. "I mean, I can ask him to go." Ed's gaze lifted, met Roy's, and then dropped to Roy's abs. "If," Ed said, managing to lift his gaze for only a brief glance. "If…"

"I am fine," Roy said, smiling with amusement. If staying for dinner meant the continuation of this uncontrolled fawning, he'd take it. He had never seen Ed drooling over anything but the malicious Philosopher's Stone, and there was something madly flattering about being the next item to cause such desire. Ed standing in his underwear wet with sexual appetite was better than whatever he was going to pop into the microwave at home.

Ed was not convinced and lifted his voice with urgency. "I can ask him to go."

"There's no need for him to go."

"You'd tell me, right?" Ed did not sound confident Alphonse's addition to their equation was stable. Alphonse had a deviously acute streak he could wield like a knife, and Ed did not think either of them new exactly what they were doing. "I don't want you to—well Alphonse can be very direct. He has a nice way about it, but he can be blunt. So I am not sure what he's really going to do."

"I am sure he's put two-and-two together."

"This doesn't bother you?"

"I am not embarrassed by the choice I made," Roy said confidently. "Does it bother you?" Ed slipped into a reflective silence as he considered this before shaking his head. "Than if neither of us are bothered, there's no reason to be worrying," Roy said. Ed was pleased, and gave a faint smile. "Now, can you do me a favor?" Ed appeared eager. "Could you get me some clothes? I feel it would be inappropriate to walk around your apartment like this." Roy indicated his toweled self, and Ed dropped his gaze to Roy's waist blushing with appeal.

"Yeah, sure." Ed left and returned with everything bundled in his arms. Roy picked through to gauge his comfort with redressing in old clothes, and Ed took notice of this.

"I am good with freshening things up with alchemy, want me to?"

Roy was intrigued; he'd heard about this from other alchemists but had never done any, A-Laundry, as it was passively called.

"You're okay with all the colors, and the uniform?" Roy asked skeptically. The Amestrian uniforms were expensive. The blue was strong, could bleed, and also had fine threads and the adornments of his title.

Ed gave the tiny fat-headed chuckle of a true State Alchemist, and dramatically scrubbed his palms together before staying, "Step back amateur." Ed was eager to show what he could do, and pushed Roy's clothing into the sink. "I travel with one suitcase." Ed held up a single metal finger, pressing the wad of clothing into one manageable pile with his flesh hand. "I couldn't fit enough socks and underwear in there if that's all I brought." Ed clapped, and sparked the bundle of laundry causing it to ruffle suddenly, as if under a quick gust of wind.

Then Ed stepped back grinning and dropped his hands to his hips. "Try 'em."

Roy lifted his dress shirt and smelled the collar. It was fresh and stiff, as if pressed. "It's all like this?" Roy asked, with surprise. _He was going to have to look into this._

"I bring two pairs of boxers." Ed held up two fingers. "The ones I am wearing, and the ones I wear while I clean the ones I wore."

Roy dressed and Ed watched, looking embarrassed he wasn't being asked to leave, but not sorry either. In socks and pants, Roy shrugged his dress shirt on, and turned to Ed.

Ed's cheeks were pink and with the sudden eye contact Ed startled into conversation. "Do you like tacos?" Ed asked. Roy moved his uniform top to the magazine stand at the end of Ed's tub. "We do a kind of home-made version, it's good." Roy turned on the sink, wet his hands, and styled his hair by brushing his fingers through his roots and fluffing them up. "If you're not a fan I've got some other stuff hanging around," Ed said. Roy smiled into the foggy mirror. "What?" Ed asked. "Why do you smile like that?"

Roy turned to Ed and began buttoning his shirt. "Ed, unless I say otherwise you can consider me comfortable. I appreciate the hospitality and don't want to be an inconvenience."

Ed wasn't flattered; he looked uncomfortable and self-sabotaged with his own drilling desire to continuously please. _He shouldn't care what Roy wanted for dinner, and should serve what they were having! _It was unusual and he felt possessed by a dormant side of himself suddenly given fuel for action. _It destroyed his common equilibrium!_ Curious, Ed watched Roy button his dress shirt and tried to annunciate the word Bastard. It wasn't that he wanted to call Roy a bastard, he wondered if he still could. He was foreigner to his own body, and it wasn't the destruction of internal routine that broke the ground beneath his feet, it was the change in perspective.

Calmly dressing himself Roy didn't look like a bastard, and nothing Roy did seemed bastard like. Unpredicted, Ed felt owner to many wild miscalculated judgments, and his gaze was deep and penetrating with consideration. _For seven years he had been looking at this man, how long did it take to really get to know a person? How was he just meeting Roy Mustang today?_ Somehow the desire to extend his right hand for introduction rose up inside Ed, but in place of his name came the words, _I misjudged you._

"Besides," Roy said, finishing his shirt and grabbing his uniform top none-the-wiser. A magazine stuck to the bottom clasp and lifted upward with it. The cover wasn't explicit, but it was enough to understand it was a boy-on-boy type, and not family friendly either.

"Well, let me know if there is anything else you need," Ed said. He snatched the magazine and stuffed it behind his back with a blush staining his entire face. Gaze averted he said, "That's mine, _thanks_," and ran, slamming the bathroom door behind him.

Laughing, Roy finished dressing and made sure he looked presentable. Although Alphonse had caught them, he planned on mirroring his office appearance as much as possible so as not to discredit his visual reputation. Then he approached the kitchen quietly. Selfishly, he wanted to see the brothers interacting again, and he could hear them talking.

Unnoticed, his silent approach felt only like the peep-hole moving closer, and he was hoping to see more of Ed in the form that appealed to him the most: guard dropped and domestic.

Alphonse was snickering when Roy stopped along the kitchen doorway. For a moment Roy couldn't identify the sound, Alphonse appeared to be sneezing, before he inhaled and whispered an, "Oh nii-san," that made it clear he was in stitches. "I wish I could have been here to see your face."

Roy peeked around the door frame and Alphonse was sitting at the kitchen table watching Ed cook at the stove. Ed had grabbed casual shorts and a tee shirt, and held a spatula above a simmering frying pan looking thoroughly annoyed.

"Did he say anything nice?" Alphonse broke into cat like grinning and wiggled in his chair as if the seat were burning him. "Just tell me so I can stop asking. Did he say, _Oh Edward, I love you._" Alphonse impersonated Roy in a low gruff voice, and Ed smacked the spatula into the frying pan. "_I've loved you since the day I met you. I think you look even better than Hawkeye, who up until today, I am pretty sure your brother Alphonse used to target for inappropriate jokes at my expense_."

Alphonse broke back into his fit of snickering, and Ed whirled around from the frying pan with a sharp, "Al!" Ed whipped the spatula outward toward Alphonse as if unsheathing a blade. "_Knock it off_," Ed said, lowering his voice into a tight angry tone.

The spatula flicked bits of half cooked ground beef across the room, and Alphonse ducked. With surprise he looked to where the meat fell, before getting up with a scolding, "Nii-san, you're making a mess." Alphonse pushed Ed from the stove and took the spatula. "Give me this, and set the table."

Ed sputtered a miserable breath and looked sullen. "How come I always have to set it?" Ed reached into the hot frying pan with his immune automail fingers and took a crumb of beef.

Alphonse was not impressed, and protested with a scolding, "Nii-san."

"This tastes bad." Ed plucked a bigger crumb and ate it with a frown. "What's wrong with it?"

"You're cooking, that's what's wrong with it."

Ed left Alphonse's side and busied himself setting the table as Alphonse spiced the pan. With all but cups set out Ed returned and tried to steal more, but Alphonse batted the automail aside with a loud, "Don't put your fingers in the food!"

Ed found the trick of using his metal hand to touch hot things Alphonse could not, fun, and grinning, cocked his shoulder into Alphonse's side like a shield, and successfully stole a few crumbs. "Nii-san!" Alphonse complained, shoving back. "Don't put your fingers in the!" Ed reached for more, and Alphonse grabbed the automail wrist. "Don't put your fingers in—what's this?" Alphonse asked, seized with sudden confusion, and staring at the automail hand in his grip. "Is that a crack?"

"No!" Ed yanked his hand away. "It's…a scratch," Ed said, rubbing the back of his automail hand with his flesh, as if it could be injured.

"A scratch?" Alphonse was flabbergasted, and turned to face Ed. "How did you scratch it so deeply?"

Ed didn't welcome the new attention and hid his automail partially behind his back. "I just did," Ed said. "It's nothing Al." Ed went to the cabinets for cups.

Alphonse gave the cooking beef an unsatisfied jab with the spatula. "I know the density of your automail nii-san," Alphonse said. "What could you have possibly used to scratch it? You've never scratched it before."

"I am starved, okay?" Ed said, adding three cups to the table. "Stop nit-picking me Al." Alphonse was not fooled with Ed's evasion, and his expression tightened with suspicious apprehension.

Roy took this moment to enter the kitchen. Since Alphonse had regained his body any tiffs between the brothers Ed wore into the office on his sleeve. Havoc out-and-out teased Ed for this, constantly telling Ed not to get his panties in a bunch, but the expression was fitting. Roy could already see Ed tightening up, and he wanted to stop this short. There had already been one awkward dinner with the three of them. He wasn't looking for another.

Alphonse looked to Roy when Roy entered, and gestured to the table. "Colonel, sit wherever you'd like." The dinner table was set, minus the cups Ed was distributing. The tacos were buffet style, and a bowl of lettuce, shredded cheese, chopped onions, cucumbers, and olives had been set.

Roy sat down. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Alphonse waved this off, and Ed snuck into the chair at Roy's side. Ed flashed Roy a quick uneasy smile before studying what was on the table. Ed's shoulders were a bit stiff, and Roy found this interesting enough to note. _Was dinner with Alphonse appropriate only if they didn't have sex before hand?_

Ed suddenly left the table to fetch the missing taco shells. They were in an upper cabinet and Ed yanked them out carelessly, before grabbing the water pitcher from the refrigerator, and shutting the refrigerator door with his foot. Watching the simple action brought Roy the realization: _Ed was adorable domestic._ It reclassified the boy, disarming him with mundane acquaintance. Roy loved the sight of it, and he loved his own inclusion. The more he witnessed, the more certain he became he treasured the observation and wanted more.

Ed tossed the bag of taco shells onto the table and plopped down at Roy's side.

Alphonse set the frying pan on the table's hot dish, and sat down across from them with a bright smile. "So Colonel," Alphonse said, waiting as Ed dumped the taco shells alongside the pan and dropped into the chair at Roy's side. Ed gave Alphonse a quick, but very specific warning glance, and Alphonse finished his sentence with a chipper, "How's work been?"

Ed reached into the table and spooned beef into a taco shell.

"Tiresome," Roy said. Ed gave the filled shell to Alphonse, and Alphonse sighed with a bit of self-defeat Ed still didn't think to serve Roy first. _Despite everything. _Roy continued, and added, "I was stuck in meetings all day." Ed served everyone before lifting the entire bowl of cheese and flooding his taco with too much to fit. Alphonse looked unimpressed, but kept his comments to himself.

Oblivious, Ed returned the near empty bowl of cheese and dove into his taco. Alphonse indicated the remaining serving and, teasing, said to Roy, "Get some before there isn't any."

Roy smiled. _He'd give Ed all the cheese desired if Ed kept this up._ "This looks very good," Roy said kindly. "Ed, I didn't know you could cook."

Ed had his mouth full, and wiped at it so he could speak. "A little."

Alphonse jumped on this. "Don't be modest nii-san, you should tell Roy how you chop vegetables with your arm."

Roy's focus had been on his taco, biting carefully so it wouldn't leak contents everywhere, but the sound of his first name dropping from Alphonse jerked his eyes up to the boy. Somehow sound of it, and the sudden lack of formality, made things very real.

Alphonse had more to say, but looking both surprised and apologetic with his slip, went silent, and glanced to Ed with poorly hidden worry. "I am sorry," Alphonse said quickly. "That was…a bit forward of me."

Roy felt a bit the fool for not addressing this somehow sooner, and openly. It was naive to think the crumbling, or at least the fumbling, of military rank and formality wouldn't commence if he kept invading the Elric household as a guest. It was disrespectfully out of line for the boys not to mind his professional title at all times, and therefore the small change from Colonel to Roy, was not small at all. Although Ed was a bit of an exception at first, arriving at twelve, and blundering custom and suavity to the extent it seemed more suitable they had pulled him from the jungle than the sticks of Resembool, Ed had caught on.

Roy had a fond memory of arriving early one winter month when desk work was heavy, only to find Hawkeye already in office. In full uniform she was sitting at her desk with Ed, who had pulled a second chair up to hers. Together, they were working on something, and Roy later learned she was teaching Ed how to properly format a case file. Roy arrived just as they were ending, and Ed had scooped his work up and hugged it to his chest before thanking her as Riza.

At the time, Roy was so offended, he almost burst into scolding. Although most of them alternated freely between calling Ed Fullmetal or the abbreviation of his first name, the sweet sound of Hawkeye's first name on child lips was so assaulting in innocence to the military room, it was halting.

It was utter madness, because she was female and Ed was male, because Ed outranked her, and because she allowed no one, not even Roy, the rights to call her Riza. At age thirteen Ed walked over this formality with ignorant bliss, and Hawkeye had smiled warmly and said, "You're welcome Ed." Hawkeye was not offended, and all she did was break a small barely distinguishable smirk when Roy corrected Ed later. "You do not call her Riza, you call her Hawkeye or Lieutenant," Roy had said, tone nonnegotiable. At age thirteen Ed was dumb enough to follow this with a baffled, "Why?" and Roy ended the conversation with a firm, "Because." _Such was the world of adults._

Now, sitting at the Elric dinner table after banging one of the Elrics, who, if not before, certainly now had unspoken rights to Roy's first name, Alphonse had slipped up and was worried the way a soldier would worry, and confused the way the brother of the boy Roy had banged was confused.

"Please," Roy said, waving this all aside gracefully. He swallowed that taco in his mouth and approached things openly. "Call me by my first name when we're being casual." He hoped that best addressed they should remain professional while in office. Alphonse was still embarrassed and kept silent. _The military didn't suggest obedience, it required it, and drilled that in deep._

"I never saw what the big deal was," Ed said, breaking Alphonse's tension. He reached into the table and began making himself a second shell. "All of this title BS is just ass-kissing anyway."

Humored, Roy gave a quick chuckle and said, "But you do appreciate yours." _Yes, Ed liked his State Alchemist title._ Roy turned to Alphonse who was relaxing slowly and said, "We had custodial staff, as well as Dietary employees who didn't know your brother in the beginning, you might remember this. If I recall correctly, there were more than a few instances where one of them would accidentally call him kid, and all that title ass-kissing, sent him ranting about the proper use of formality."

Ed stopped chewing and carped a, "What?" as if this were preposterous. "That's an exaggeration."

"I received complaints," Roy said, still smiling. In fact, Roy received more than complaints, he remembered these events clearly. Directly afterward whoever Ed was yelling at, or whoever the John's Officer was, would arrive in Roy's office hot, some two year old child thought they were going to chew the ear off a full blown man simply because they had a pocket watch. _How did you defend that without stepping on the toes of other State Alchemists? _As a State Alchemist, Roy certainly wasn't going to say they couldn't exercise their authority, but at the same time, he promised to do something about Ed's exercising. He would never forget his embarrassment when he heard the boy start yelling from across the dining hall.

"There was that one time you were getting breakfast," Roy said, recalling everything clearly. The echoing sound of many chatting soldiers, the smell of early coffee, the clank of plastic cafeteria trays and dishware, and then suddenly, without warning, one screaming angry child pitching a fit. "I think you started yelling, how dare you tell the Fullmetal Alchemist what he can and cannot have." Alphonse laughed. "Then you followed that with rude questions, such as, who do you think you are, and I think you even said, I'll crush you."

Ed was chewing with a miserably skeptical expression and muttered, "I wouldn't have said that."

"The attendant was just trying to do his job," Roy said, beginning to laugh. "Bet he never thought he'd get up that morning, and have a preschooler go ape shit in the breakfast line."

"_His job_," Ed said angrily, before sputtering a quick, "Preschooler!" and then returning to his argument, "_His job_, was to serve me what I paid for." Ed was chewing quickly, and poked a metal finger to his dish in argument. "It was none of his damn business whether or not I had coffee, and certainly never that shmuck's place to decide whether or not I could, presumptuous ass." Half of Ed's taco cracked, and fell to the plate. "I would have crushed him," Ed said, grabbing it and mashing it back into the remaining shell.

"Actually, I think I remember that," Alphonse said, grinning widely.

"You do not," Ed snapped.

"The Colonel was mad at us," Alphonse continued, eating at a healthy pace while Ed plowed the rest of his taco. "He—you yelled at us," Alphonse said, looking to Roy. "If I remember correctly sir, you said we behaved like children and were embarrassing." This was accurate. Roy remembered standing Ed before his desk so he could sit down and yell at the boy. As always the armor was at Ed's side, and now that armor was another flesh body, laughing at the same memory.

"I don't remember any of this crap," Ed said irritably, sounding uncomfortably as if he could remember it.

Dinner continued onward with light chatter. Most of Roy's work day was spent organizing, reviewing, and issuing orders into the latest murders. They were sporadic, but they were ticking higher and higher in number, and the last thing he wanted was anything with the name serial. He had men making rounds, men rushing their evidence through, and was keeping it all classified. All you needed was one nosey reporter. _They could be as pestering as one nosey alchemist. _Briefly he gave the boys some details, and they were mildly entertained and curious.

Dinner concluded with Alphonse sharing one of infantry's latest inappropriate jokes. It was a real gut-buster, and Ed was laughing as he cleared the table. Alphonse helped, both of them insisting Roy ignore the mess, but somehow the ice wasn't entirely broken until Roy shared a classic joke about a hooker, her sister, and the soldier that paid for her. It was an oldie-but-goodie, as they say, and Roy remembered hearing it years ago in the open deserts at their Eastern border, sweating his balls off, while doing tactical training with their border men. _Border men had the best jokes._

Alphonse found it hysterical, and was laughing and elbowing Ed in communal amusement while Ed downed a full cup of water with the talent to laugh without spitting it up. Setting things in the sink Alphonse promised to spread the joke, before busting on Ed about oddly needing fluids _badly_.

After that joke, cleaning the kitchen went from a three to two person operation with Alphonse laughing and Ed demanding Alphonse go someplace else. Kindly, Alphonse left to take a shower.

Ed stood at the filling sink looking mildly annoyed, before giving Roy a defeated shrug. "He'll get bored with it," Ed reassured. "He's just…he just enjoys busting on me sometimes."

Roy thought this was perfectly understandable. "I should help you clean up and then go. It's getting late."

Ed's calm expression jumped with something between immediate apprehension and excitement. "You could," Ed said quickly, giving a weak indecisive shrug. "You could stay, if you want."

Roy smiled sincerely; it swept his face and was full of appreciation for Ed's earnest and eager desire. The sight of it reduced a bit of Ed's discomfort, and Ed mimicked softly. "Thank you," Roy said. "But I think that would be unfair to Alphonse."

"Alphonse won't mind," Ed said. Roy brought his dish to the sink and slipped it into the pooling water. He didn't respond, because it was clear Ed wasn't worried about Alphonse minding. "Seriously, he won't," Ed said, with absolute confidence. "It's just, not an inconvenience at all," Ed explained, moving to a casual tone, while Roy considered his options. He didn't want to reject the offer, but Ed wasn't presenting a way to politely skirt around it. Succumbing because this was socially difficult wasn't an option, and Ed seemed to sense the reluctance and moved his gaze to the sink. "Say something," Ed demanded, uncomfortable with the silence.

"Forgive me if I," Roy paused, Ed looked up, and everything about the boy, from his eyes, to his face, to his clothes, and bare foot self, was entrancing with something surreally vulnerable. Roy felt Ed's heart in his palm, and its sensitivity was frightening. Just because he didn't feel urgency, did not make Ed any less urgent, and the balance was dangerously one sided. He needed to be careful, he needed to be slow, and the irony was, so did Ed, and perhaps more so than either of them. "…I think it's rather rushed," Roy said.

It was hard to explain, but also this simple. This wasn't a fantasy, it was life, and real life required caution, and judgment based on fact. This had as much to do with him understanding what his true feelings might be, as Ed understanding his own. No matter the life experience, every relationship was its own unique bond, and it required time. Ed looked as if he could understand how things appeared rushed, and disagreement flittered across his face, but he didn't argue. "Also," Roy said slowly, because there was more. There was something volatile about how they were testing depth with both feet. "I think it's risky as well."

Ed separated their gaze immediately. "It's no big deal." Ed grabbed the soap and angrily held it upside down over the water. It drizzled down in blue spider threads. "I didn't mean to put you on the spot. Some other time then maybe."

"Some other time?" Roy asked. This statement felt a little like a slap. "What do you mean, some other time? Don't you think that's rather childish?"

Ed harshly set the soap bottle back alongside the sink. "Don't you think this is rather evasive of you?" Ed asked, voice tight with anger and something that sounded like rejected pain.

"I don't see how it could be," Roy said, trying to stay rational. There was an age gap between them, and he was demanding he be patient in this conversation so he could properly observe it. "Ed, don't turn what we've done into something rude. If I didn't want to stay with you, I would say so." It was as simple as that. This wasn't about rating how good things were to determine how much more should come; this was about sitting still long enough to make sure you were ranking them accurately.

Ed didn't see it like this. He stared down at the sink full of water and choked a small frustrated breath. "Then why don't you?" Ed asked, sounding desperate. The automail was resting lightly on the lip of the sink and it gripped tightly. "Just say you don't want to, or just stay. Why break what's happening like this? Why break it unless you want to break it?"

Roy envisioned Ed building his relationship like a chemical equation. Stringing periodic elements one after the other, growing it greater and greater, into something more complex, more complete, more spectacular. _More was better, wasn't it?_ More was stronger, greater? _Why break the equation when you could make it better? _Why stop when you didn't have to? _Why break it when you didn't want to!_

Roy stepped flush to Ed's side, and looked down at the boy. After everything it was easy to smell Ed in a collection of fragrances. There was the shampoo from Ed's hair, Ed's flesh body, Ed's metal body, and the smell of Ed's clothing, which was more or less the combining scent of Edward and Alphonse, and the entire apartment. Roy loved it. He attributed these smells to the memory of their sex. _Now Ed wore the packaged cologne of their love making like a pheromone._

"Ed, I think it's premature." Roy didn't know how else to say it. "I don't want to move too fast. We'll step on things we shouldn't forget."

This statement grabbed Ed's full attention, and Ed turned to face Roy. "We?" Ed asked, sounding surprised with the pronoun. Ed lifted his automail and gestured between their chests with a single wag of his finger. "You and me?" Roy nodded, but this insinuation seemed to irritate Ed. Immediately his expression darkened in an accusatory way. "If you're so worried about what _we'll _forget, what are we then? You have a _term_ for this _we?_"

Roy was silent. Ed's inner self, Ed's intimate self, seemed to be incredibly sensitive. More delicate than anything he could have imagined, and he felt like a fruitless miner who had discovered an entire cavern of half buried rubies and emeralds. Ed's interior was like a magical other plane, and somewhere in the center of it would be a treasure greater than any of the stones he'd pass to get there.

Roy lowered his voice and asked, "What do you want us to be?"

Ed's answer was immediate, and his tone was nonnegotiable. "Exclusive." He dropped the word as if he were dropping a hammer.

Roy was taken back. He was surprised with Ed's certainty, and worried it was rushed with adolescent delusion. _How well did Ed know him? _How could Ed be so sure they should do something so real? The only relationship they had was in the office, and many years of that had been spent carrying out scripted actions. Dropping your shackles, master or slave, was a big deal, and changed things.

Roy's silence was not what Ed was hoping for, and Ed closed his eyes was insult. "I know I don't have any right to ask that," Ed said softly, reopening his eyes. His gaze was incredibly focused, and Roy imagined he was on the receiving end of what Alphonse had every day. The severity of this was intimidating to him. "I know you are—I know you have a life that, is…not really my business. I know…Well, maybe you're seeing other people, maybe you're dating even now." Ed reached into the sink and wet a rag before washing a cup with slow distracted mannerisms. "It's not my place. You can do what you want, you have freewill just like the rest of us, but I…" Ed silenced, his voice came to a halt as if speech was suddenly a struggle. "…I just…" Ed let the cup he was washing slip back into the water. "…I just don't want you to," Ed's voice dropped to a whisper, "sleep with anyone else anymore."

Roy was astonished with this narrow minded view of his dating and sex life. "Ed," he said, with rising insult. "What are—"

Ed cut Roy off, and spun to face him. "I know you said you weren't committing, and I know you said it would be temporary, and that's fine!" Ed said quickly. Nothing about Ed looked to agree with that statement. "I agreed to that, I knew what you said, but…" Ed went silent, averting his gaze and struggling with indecision. "…But I want you …to…to tell me…" The severity of Ed's words made each one a heavy stone. "I…won't be able to take it if you don't."

Roy didn't know where to start with all this, but his irritation seemed a good place. "You make me out to be a dog." Carrying out a social life didn't mean ending up in bed with anything holding a pulse. Ed looked shocked with Roy's accusation, but Roy scoffed. "You're young Edward. Do not forget you have a bias, narrow view of the world, no matter how much you've been through. Not everyone traps their family in inanimate objects and rips off their own limbs before their balls have dropped. Walking around in adolescent celibacy is unusual, and your distraction, and resulting purity, does not make the rest of us sinners." Ed's eyes widened with Roy's brutal verbiage. "If things had happened differently for you, and you had been allowed to mature longer—"

Ed cut Roy off. "Now I am not mature!" Ed snapped, raising his voice. "For saying that!"

"Don't interrupt me," Roy said firmly, comfortably falling to a tone reserved for office orders.

Ed became disgusted. "I'll do whatever the hell I want. You can't order me around outside the office Colonel." Ed gave Roy's chest a firm poke. "I can say whatever I want, I'll interrupt you if I want, and I can take one measly Flame Alchemist."

"When you interrupt me, you jump to conclusions too quickly Ed," Roy said, raising his voice just a bit. He ignored the rest of Ed's statement, it was big talk, but Ed was beginning to look nervous with their arguing. Ed's eyes were no longer focused, they were worried. "What I was saying, is that if you had been allowed to mature later into life you would have followed the same path as everyone else. You would date like I date, like every soldier dates. Don't think because life has dealt you such a special card that everyone else conducts themselves as exclusively as you." Ed looked startled having his past life choices flung back at him. If he didn't agree with how they were being explained, he was too muddled to argue. Roy was painting imagery of a boy injured early in life, and crippled with all sorrow and time dedicated to the recovery of himself and his brother. At the age Ed was studying night and day to be state certified, other boys his age fantasized about sex.

"I didn't mean it like that," Ed said quickly, looking uncomfortable.

"I don't care how you meant it," Roy said, still annoyed. "That's how it sounded, and you're out of line making me into a tramp. Just want the hell did you think you were doing in the back of my car the way you were? Seeking a soul mate?"

Ed flinched. "That was one time!" Ed gestured to Roy with an angry wet hand. "All the soldiers talk about you! Your fan base is miles long! All I ever hear about, is how the women of Central can't get their skirts up fast enough for the prick of the great Flame Alchemist Colonel!" Ed shook his head with disgust. "What a thing to tell a fucking fourteen year old. And I've been listening to it ever since."

"Listening to other people," Roy said flatly.

"And I have to hear all the gross details, because half of our infantry thinks you're a god, and the other half is scared shitless of what you did in Ishval. And _everyone_ is out making their lists, and getting partner after partner, and playing musical-chairs with people, and I am getting left out!" Ed said, angrily. "I told one person I thought you looked good, and do you know what they said!" Roy kept silent, feeling slightly alarmed Ed might be telling people anything. Ed dropped his voice to an obnoxious octave, and mimicked, "_Get in line Fullmetal_." On another day Roy would have found that funny. "The fucker laughed in my face, and told me to get to the back of the line."

_No place for the Fullmetal Alchemist. _Roy could see Ed's pride reeling with agitation, but also, there was a self-conscious fury that maybe that's where he belonged! That maybe, with everything stripped away, his sexual talent was small or nonexistent, and the great and powerful Flame Alchemist Roy Mustang, wouldn't give him the time of day. He equated to nothing, after all he done, he didn't stand a chance, to random benighted strangers!

After a long pause, Roy made things simple, and said, "You don't look as if you're at the back of the line." Ed was in heavy mental debate, and was both surprised and embarrassed such a hideous error lay in his argument. "Looks like I am sleeping with a man, and the Fullmetal Alchemist has budged the rest of Central," Roy said, before adding a playful, "Well," he teased, "most of it."

A quick smile pitched the right side of Ed's face. There was something giddy about hearing Roy say they were sleeping together, and something even better about being called a man.

Roy watched Ed's eyes dart about as Ed absorbed their conversation. "Any witty remarks?" he asked. "I am waiting for the sarcasm." _Ed loved it so very much._

Ed ignored this. He lifted his gaze with new confidence and returned to the root cause. "Sleeping with someone is not the same as being with them."

"That's true," Roy said. _And what an adult concept that was. _

Ed's eyes narrowed accusingly, but in a voice so soft Roy barely heard it, he asked, "Do you want to be with me?"

"Maybe," Roy said. "I think I might." His answer was not the romping yes Ed was hoping for. It wasn't the love-starved or sex-craved yes Ed thought he would get. "I am a realist Ed." Roy tried to explain this. "In the last two days I've seen you more, and more sides of you then ever. I am answering you now as honestly as I can," he said, stepping closer and lowering his voice. "But I am answering you."

Ed looked slightly reassured and another faint half-smile came and went. "I just…don't want to be on the side."

"Nobody does."

"I just want to know where we stand."

"If I say yes, you won't be on the side. You have my word."

Ed nodded, and licked his lips with uncertainty. "Stay with me tonight." Ed looked innocently hopeful again, as if something about the decision-making process just needed more convincing. "Stay, don't go. You don't have to."

"Tomorrow night we can be together. Tonight I want time for us both to think."

"I don't need time to think," Ed said quickly.

Roy sighed. He leaned forward and pressed a motionless kiss to Ed's forehead. He gave Ed a quick hug and then stepped back. "I do Ed," he said softly.

Ed's body deflated with disappointment, but the discussion was over. _You couldn't force people to love you. _"Okay," Ed said. "I'll see you out then."

Ed left the kitchen and Roy followed. "I'll see you tomorrow," Roy said, pausing as Ed opened the door. "Thanks for dinner."

"Anytime," Ed said, managing a weak smile. He was overly depressed with their separating, and Roy could feel it. Politely he was doing his best to ignore it. He laid a hand on Ed's shoulder and gave it a squeeze before leaving. As he stepped over the threshold Ed muttered a small, "See you at work," and the tone and formality of the phrase, was so completely hopeless, Roy stopped.

Ed didn't believe they were going to amount to anything. He sounded placated that Roy had apologized for the misunderstanding they'd had the night before. They had returned to a relaxed engagement that would not make office work hard considering, but, Ed's excitement, Ed's eager anticipation, everything uplifting about them, had suffocated suddenly, like a flame snuffed out. Not a quiet retreat, but a death, a murder, and what was left was mourning.

This exit from the evening was an exit from the entire relationship, and Roy turned to Ed, momentarily stunned, and stared at the boy.

Ed was mildly surprised with Roy's sudden halt, and stared back clueless. Overall Ed looked every bit as abandoned as Roy imaged Ed felt, and he stepped back quickly, and took Ed in a fierce hug.

"Ed, dammit, I am not walking out on you, I am just going home."

Ed grabbed Roy's shoulders with desperation, and dropped a bomb. "Why do you leave me every time we have sex!"

_So this was it_.

Roy closed his eyes and groaned. Ed was both one of the smartest, and apparently, also one of the socially dumbest alchemists he had under him. "Ed, we live in the real world. Just because we have sex does not mean we get to stay together forever. I still have to go home and go to work, and so do you." Ed didn't appreciate monotony, and gave a small protesting grunt. "If there is any hope of this working, you can't look at me like I am leaving you forever every time I have to go home." Roy cracked a smile, and laughed softly. "I won't be able to take it." Roy disengaged and parted them. "Listen," he said. "I am not leaving you every time we have sex."

"That's what's happening."

"That is the natural order of events," Roy corrected, unsure why, or how, he could find any comedy in such moronic flawed reasoning. "You're being a little idiot."

Ed's expression went dark in an expression of severe agitation, and he mouthed the word, "little" with quiet fury.

"We had a nice evening, don't spoil it," Roy said. "You were bold, and I appreciated the honesty, that was why I gave you any answer at all." He could have done nothing. With no crime, noncommittal and temporary meant this all ended whenever he felt like it. _At any moment, you get up and go home, shows over, no looking back. _"I am inviting you to dinner tomorrow, at my house." Ed looked sour with everything, as if he were robbed, and Roy recognized the expression because it was the one Ed wore every time he found his latest endeavor for the Philosopher's Stone to be a ruse. _Ed wanted his treat, and he didn't like it being taken from him._

"Dinner?" Ed asked, sounding bored with the affair, but also eager to rejoin.

"Yes," Roy said, lifting a finger to make a point. "And tomorrow I will tie you to my bed and play with you." Ed's dismal look, broke with unexpected intrigue and he shuddered. "I am not kidding," Roy added. Ed looked skeptical, if not doubtful Roy was being serious, and Roy smiled widely. "Think about that tonight, and work up some courage so you don't start bitching tomorrow." Roy descended on Ed's neck like a vampire, and kissed upward until he met Ed's ear. "Now goodnight," he whispered into it. "Thank you for a lovely evening, and remember to thank your brother for me."

Roy left a final kiss on Ed's lips before disengaging and shutting the door behind himself.

Ed was left like a statue before his closed front door staring at the wood as Roy's words saturated deeper into his brain. _Things were going good. Date one, became two, and now three!_

Alphonse opened the bathroom door half way, and stuck his head out glancing around. Ed looked over at this, and broke a wide smile Alphonse ignored. "The Colonel left, right?" Alphonse asked, stepped out in a towel only after Ed nodded. "Why are you so happy nii-san?"

Standing in the hall, separated from Ed only by the closed door, Roy heard Alphonse clearly, and smiled. Ed's footsteps left into the apartment, but Alphonse didn't move, and Roy listened to the boy.

"For dinner?" Alphonse said. Ed's voice was a soft unidentifiable baritone. "Wow, that's great!" Alphonse's was closer to the door, and slightly louder. "Maybe we should have the Colonel over more of—what?" Alphonse cut himself off with Ed still talking. "What! Bondage?"

Roy reached up and gripped his mouth and jaw, grinning beneath his palm.

"Like in your magazines?" Alphonse asked, sounding flabbergasted.

Ed suddenly became audible in a loud, "No! Not like those!" There were a few additional words, all with an angry tone, and too low to hear, before Ed finished with a, "And Roy found one of them today because you put one in the damn bathroom!"

"Did I?" Alphonse mocked innocently.

"Al, don't touch my stuff! Come on!"

Roy stepped up to the door and through the peep-hole Alphonse was tapping his finger against his chin in an absent minded farce.

"Well I guess I should stop encouraging you, since nii-san's sex life is getting so wild and kinky," Alphonse teased. Ed was wiping up the coffee table and blushed madly with Alphonse's taunting. "What do you think he'll do to you if he ties you up nii-san? Are you sure you should let him?"

Ed stopped wiping and looked up. "I don't think he'd hurt me Alphonse."

"Nii-san, the colonel is a clever man, and think about all the times you've made his life difficult." Ed looked worried when he heard this. _Yes, there were plenty of those._ "He might be trying to extract his revenge." Alphonse began laughing.

Ed dropped the rag to the coffee table and stood up with a deep frown of bewildered fret. With both hands on his hips, he was deep in thought before lifting his gaze to Alphonse and demanding, "How do you find all this so funny!"

"You're always a wise ass to him, and deliberately disrespectful, and you call him names behind his back." Alphonse was counting off on his fingers, bending them back with exaggerated movements. " Do you remember when you got so pissed you spit in his coffee!"

Roy felt railroaded when he heard this. He had no idea Ed had done this!

Ed left stomping for the kitchen. "Well he didn't even drink it, so it doesn't count!"

"Yes, but you meant for him to drink it!" Alphonse called, leaving for the bedroom.

With the living room deserted, Roy carefully turned the doorknob and opened the door a crack so he could hear the boys from the other rooms. "By the way nii-san!" Alphonse called from the bedroom. "Did I tell you you're not the only one with a date tomorrow?"

Ed stepped into the kitchen doorway looking a bit frazzled. "No." Ed looked severely distracted musing about what might happen to him while tied up and Roy watched Ed rake an uneasy hand through his hair with delight. _Yes, squirm with anxiety._

"Well you're not," Alphonse said happily. "I am going out with that cute girl Cindy. You know, from reception?"

"Cindy's annoying," Ed said, looking up as Alphonse exited the bedroom flipping through a boy-boy magazine. "Al!" Ed yelled, "Where did you get that!"

Alphonse was casually turning pages before stopping with a visual cringe. "Oh my gosh," Alphonse said, wincing with the pornographic images. "What if he uses a toy?"

Ed ran for the magazine and tried to snatch it. "Alphonse!"

Alphonse turned evasively and pressed his back to Ed's chest. He extended his arms, holding the magazine open, and continuing to browse while Ed swiped at it.

"This must have been sealed when sold, this is explicit," Alphonse teased, flipping a page. "Oh gross." Alphonse flipped a second page. "Wow."

Ed made another attempt at the magazine but Alphonse dodged it quickly. "Al, stop!"

"This looks like a good position," Alphonse said, giving the magazine a small shake to indicate the new page. "Would you do this with him?" Alphonse looked back over his shoulder with a teasing smile and sung, "I bet the Colonel would like it."

Ed jerked off Alphonse and closed his eyes blushing hotly. "Oh my god," Ed muttered. He extended his hand politely, and Alphonse relinquished the magazine. Ed rolled it quickly and held it to his chest. "How did you get so perverted Alphonse? Mom would be rolling over in her grave if she heard you talking this way."

Alphonse's smile dropped. "Nii-san, that's such a mean thing to say!" Alphonse gave Ed a mock shove. "Besides, if mom's shocked with my words, think of how shocked she'd be if she knew you were doing them." Ed shuddered and hugged the magazine tighter. "Nii-san." Alphonse looped his arm over Ed's shoulders. "I love teasing you."

"I see that."

"And I don't think the colonel would hurt you." Ed did not look entirely certain anymore. "Just enjoy yourself. Do whatever you want, it's not hurting anyone." Alphonse continued, but a loud boom of thunder cut him off.

Ed's head jerked around to face the window with a loud, "Son of a bitch!" Ed stomped across the living room and looked out. "Why are we getting more rain! This rain is unseasonal!"

Alphonse went to the same window, and joined Ed looking up at the sky. "It may not rain nii-san, calm down."

Roy left the Elric door. He couldn't have paid Alphonse to work Ed over any better than the boy had. Impulsively he had invited Ed over, and just as impulsively he scheduled the sexual game. In hindsight he wasn't certain if the idea of tying Ed up was even sexually appealing to him. He'd never contemplated it before, and had no practice tying up his lovers. The question of whether Ed would like or allow it, was an even further afterthought, but now, with ideas stirring, how could he pass this up?

Ed was more receptive than Roy could have imagined, and Alphonse was inspirational.

* * *

Thank you wonderful readers! I hope you all enjoyed the holiday (if you celebrated)!

Now even after a 2 week break…that was 30 pages of developing story – so please review! Let me know what you think about what happened, what has happened, and what you think will happen. I can't wait to hear from you! I sincerely love your reviews!

Chapter 5: _Unsubtle Acts of Deceit, _will be up next Friday 07/19/13. Hope to see you then!


	5. Unsubtle Acts of Deceit

Foolish For You  
Chapter Five  
_Unsubtle Acts of Deceit_

- mirage -

Roy spent the next day executing the tedious and political responsibilities of a colonel, and at fifteen to five was storming for the car wanting his freedom like a caged dog. Last nights pleasurable accident, had filled his evening with an unknown, but fairly obvious string of events that all suggested to be favorable.

Ed would come over, they would eat, and have sex. That was the simple chain of things, and Roy had spent a good forty-five minutes of his conference call figuring out what he'd serve for dinner, and the next hour of the call sketching it poorly on his legal pad. Shrimp, linguini, white wine. He was going to seduce the Fullmetal Alchemist's stomach, and then take care of the rest.

Around three in the afternoon he reviewed the military's requirements for defining criminal cases as serial. Respectfully, the requirements were rather vague, to suppress use of the dirty word, but he filed an upward memorandum on his justification for continued nonuse of the branding, just in case. If things went sour, or sped up quickly, finger-pointing was harder when everyone was involved.

Afterward, Roy had begun mentally analyzing how he would go about binding Ed's arms. At first the idea seemed like a poor choice, and became an unwanted responsibility. How idiotic, considering the automail. Restraining Ed's wrists, while Ed had access to his alchemy, something Roy was not going to inhibit, and while Ed could change the girth of the metal arm if needed, said this was a bad idea. Poor restraints, in quality and capability, would put a damper on the mood, and cheapen it. Roy sunk into self-scolding, he should have thought before he opened his mouth and bitten this off. _How did he even come up with this!_ Then while berating his spontaneity, he saw the obviousness of it all.

The entire game had nothing to do with actual restraints. Ed didn't need to be realistically secured or confined. There was no need to actually begin researching how people were restraining themselves these days, find a shady back alley store that might sell such items, try and figure out what size Ed might be, and then how to get the boy into them. No, that was all over thinking, all exaggeration of the entire concept, because it was in fact, incredibly simple. _The restraints were psychological._ They didn't need to be strong, they needed to fill the psychological itch they were crafting, the same way a food item filled a craving. _The restrains were sexual candy_, and this made their make and design obvious.

Soft, slender, sleek, appealing in both touch and sight: _ribbons._

Tapping his pencil impatiently into his new memorandum, a smile broke across his face when he realized that ribbons, although flimsy and rather female, fit perfectly. In fact, they held the humorous implication of dressing Ed up like a present to be unwrapped. _Oh how pissed we'd be if we heard that._ Discretely Roy enjoyed a kind laugh at Ed's expense, and with new options unfolding, or was it, unraveling, ideas followed in toe. Instead of back alley stores selling items of debauchery, all Roy needed to buy was a small, very delicate bell.

At five, Roy opened the top of his uniform, rolled down the car windows, and left for the market.

At ten after six he arrived home in a mood of sour frustration. Central had several markets, and one chain run by a single family, but after work was the worst time to go. The markets were crowded, the lines were long, ordering fish was chaotic, and parking was obnoxious. Leaving the liquor store Roy was half tempted to open one of the bottles and start early. Not the nice bottle he'd bought for the table, but the cheap cooking wine. _As if that made it any better. _

Responsibly he had entertained the fact Edward was still under Amestrian's drinking age, while recalling memories of times he'd crossed paths with an obviously buzzed or drunk Fullmetal Alchemist. Central Command was the safest fortress in the country, and when you were a soldier and your base was safe, the rest of your life was filled in with paperwork, alcohol, and women. Cans were popping the minute the clock ticked five on Friday, and where did the Elric's live? In the barracks, where ninety percent of the population was either drinking or drunk Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. What hope was there with those odds. There was a fine line you walked as a colonel, entrusted with upholding state and military law, but also, needing to allow some flexibility so everything went smoothly. By extension this included allowing your youngest in command to join the shenanigans of his co-workers, and a few beers weren't going to kill the boy.

When Ed was fifteen and Roy had seen that glimmer becoming uncontrollable in Havoc's eyes, he had stopped the Lieutenant while they were getting coffee one Friday morning and said, "One or two only," and it was understood. He didn't say one or two of what, and Havoc didn't admit he had any intention of letting a minor into his busy apartment of drinking buddies, slinging an arm around Ed's nervous shoulders, and pushing a can into Ed's hand, he just kept stirring his coffee.

So blacklisting wine with dinner, after this unspoken stretch of tolerance seemed asinine, and Roy purchased a white fruit wine, the sweetest he thought he could stand.

Home he dumped everything onto his kitchen counter, turned on Bach, and began the domestic juggling act of one expecting guests. There was cleaning of his place and self, and cooking.

Two minutes before he left to take a shower, with most groceries in the refrigerator and water boiling on the stove, the phone rang and Roy answered.

Multitasking he answered as he would with his desk line, with a fast and curt, "Yes."

"Hey, it's me," Ed greeted.

Roy smiled, trying to suppress what was beginning to feel semblant of giddy excitement. Just the sound of Ed's voice got him going with the undiscussed evening promises coming closer. "How are we?" Roy asked.

"Not so good," Ed said, tone irritated, or perhaps exhausted. "Look I am sorry, but I am going to have to cancel tonight."

"What?" Roy was shocked.

"Yeah I know," Ed said. "And I wanted to come, and yeah well, we're going to have to reschedule. Can we do it tomorrow?"

Roy shut off his stove. "I don't understand," he said, failing to keep the disappointment from his voice. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Ed said quickly. "Nothing's wrong. I just can't make it."

"If nothing's wrong, then why can't you make it?"

Ed went silent, and Roy knew he was being rude putting Ed on the spot, but he didn't care. He was Ed's commanding officer, and he'd known the boy for seven years. There wasn't much in Ed's life that should be in competition with their date. Was Ed getting cold feet? _Did Alphonse talk Ed over the edge!_

"Look, it's a long story, I promise I'll explain," Ed said, sounding guilty, but determinate to avoid the question. A bit of static entered the line, as if Ed were calling from a weak line. Following Roy heard several structural groaning noises, as if Ed were in an open building ready to come down. "I just wanted to give some notice, that's all. Is it okay...if we still do it?" Ed was nervous his request to reschedule might destroy the entire date. He lowered his voice discretely and said, "I still want to. I just…can't today."

"Do you have cold feet?"

"Hey, back off Roy." Ed was immediately defensive. "You don't scare me, and I am not even interested in knowing what you hope to do, that's how little it matters." Ed was smiling, tone suddenly excited and eager. "A bit of rope couldn't stop me from kicking your ass to save your life," Ed teased, beginning a quiet laugh. Roy relaxed, Ed did not sound like a boy too chicken to come. "Set the date for tomorrow," Ed said, happily. "Stop making me ask."

Roy went to agree, before the line dipped back into static, and the oddly undefined sounds came again. "What is that?" Roy asked. "Your connection is horrible, where are you?"

"Home—Alphonse," Ed said quickly. "Military barrack lines are shit." The phone admitted several shuffling sounds as Ed switched the receiver from one ear to the other. "I gotta go, sorry again."

Ed disconnected abruptly, and Roy dropped his gaze to the dormant pot on his stove. The still water seemed appropriate, all activity for the night had stopped. Trying to remain optimistic, Roy focused on the fact his schedule was appealing tomorrow, and tomorrow he wouldn't be on such a limited time frame for preparation.

This thought followed with the dumb second they hadn't confirmed a time, and Roy stared at the receiver in his hand unable to remember the Elric's number. He called reception, obtained Ed's number, and called Ed's dorm only to listen to the call ring repeatedly. He jotted Ed's number down on his kitchen pad.

On the twelfth ring a half asleep Alphonse answered, and slurred a hello into the receiver.

"Alphonse?" Roy asked. Alphonse did not sound mentally alert enough to take a call.

"Yeah, who's this?" Alphonse muttered, clearing his throat.

"It's Roy, please put Ed on for a minute. Sorry to call right back."

"Oh, ah..." Alphonse trailed off. "I don't think he's here colonel. I thought he was with you." Roy set his pen down slowly. _Ed was not with him, Ed was supposed to be home with Alphonse._

"No he's not. I was under the assumption he was home." Roy felt an odd concern trickle into him. _Ed had just said he was home with Alphonse._

Alphonse sighed. "Okay, let me look." Roy heard Alphonse set the phone down and travel back into the apartment.

Vaguely Roy tried to recall Alphonse's schedule for the day, but all that came to mind was Alphonse's arrangement of a particularly difficult obstacle course. Orphans in the military needed someone labeled a responsible party to sign their waivers, and because it was Ed's instinct to send to Roy, as he had since age twelve, Alphonse followed suit. While Alphonse's daily schedule wasn't a particular interest to Roy, since he could uproot the boy from unassigned projects as needed, and didn't need to worry about Alphonse burrowing into scandal or taboo the way Ed made him nervous, he often did not know what the boy was doing. As long as he didn't receive complaints, it meant Alphonse was productive, and he signed enough approval slips clearing Alphonse into tactical trainings, and drill exercises, to feel satisfied the boy took initiative and earned his paycheck.

After a minute Roy heard Alphonse call out for Ed, sounding utterly exhausted, and that was fitting. The obstacle course would have destroyed the boy. It was advanced, and designed for young men in their twenties.

Alphonse returned to the phone with a groggy, "Yeah he's not here. Don't you guys have dinner plans tonight?" Alphonse asked, yawning.

"Yes, thanks." Roy hung up.

Ed was not home.

Ed was not with Alphonse

Ed had lied.

Ed had canceled.

Why?

Roy stood for a moment in silence, and reviewed the information he'd just acquired. Ed had lied boldly, but it wasn't the lie that had Roy captured.

Ed had begun ritualistically lying as far back as one month into his certification, when he realized honest answers didn't always get him what he wanted. Vague answers, contorted with positive spins to negative situations, were much better. _The town had already cited the building for demolition, what I did was a service. It doesn't matter that stone was a hoax, the said they'd fund my research and this is now, valuable research._ While practically fraudulent, reporting of this nature was more suited for certain branches of the military: Finance and Research being two of them. The only person it wasn't well suited for was Roy himself, who expected his direct reports to conduct themselves with honesty so he always positioned himself accordingly.

This made Ed difficult to combat when he was younger, because yelling at the boy made him remorseful, but was too weak a deterrent to break the repetitive cycle. Ed was indifferent to his military career and reputation. Narrow minded and blinded by whatever objective he was chasing, Ed only knew he wanted what he wanted, and didn't enjoy interference. This made history an unfolding path of Edward twisting reports, and Roy skillfully outmatching the most precocious alchemist in his control through constant evolution of tactic and approach. While Ed's age-driven handicap made this easy at twelve, his juggernaut metamorphosis made him wildly unpredictable, capricious, and viciously hungry for the reputation he recognized at age sixteen. Ed's lies didn't decrease, they increased, both in talent and unyielding confidence.

It was a recipe for commanding officer suicide, but Roy's aptitude and patience made him a dazzling opponent. He brainwashed Ed early, and brainwashed him young. The boy must never view him as an unwavering ally, but also, absolutely never confuse him for the enemy. The solidarity and strength of his authority was absolute, meaning at will, and dependent on Ed's actions, he could tighten Ed's leash, or break Ed's chain. The message was clear: Please me, and you are happy, anger me, and you are miserable.

These two extremes told Roy Ed was lying for only one reason. First assumption was the obvious: _Ed didn't want Roy to know the truth, _but following it was the root cause: _Ed believed Roy would disagree with the truth, and enough so he might intervene_.

Roy dialed his unit, and on the second ring Havoc picked up.

"Havoc, it's me."

"Nice to hear your voice Colonel," Havoc said kindly, before adding a bitter, "Home and comfy are you?" Havoc was on second shift again, and hated it.

"Havoc, what time did Fullmetal leave the office today."

Havoc gave a heavy disinterested sigh and the sound of shuffling papers began. "Ed, huh," Havoc said, tone utterly bored before laughing a quick, "Uh oh." The sound of papers stopped. "Guess who didn't show today sir," Havoc asked, giving the famous soldier chuckle of one aware their buddy was going to be chewed out. "No-Call-No-Show apparently," Havoc said, grin audible. "That's what Hawkeye wrote anyway. There is a stickie note on the attendance sheet. Should I read it?"

"Go ahead."

"Hawkeye wrote, called his dorm twice, no answer. Edward needs a long lecture sir." Havoc was amused, and added, "Someone's ass is going to be fried."

Roy sighed heavily. His stupid conference call and meetings had kept him from that information.

"Thank you," he said, moving to hang up before changing his mind. "Havoc, if I am unavailable tomorrow and Fullmetal does not show for work, I want you to find me, and inform me, regardless of my task." Havoc gave an understanding grunt. "Also, I want you to look into what Fullmetal has been researching. I want to know what he's been doing with his time."

Havoc began writing. "…what he's been...doing...with his..."

Roy frowned. "No, I want you to get up and do it now."

"But I am manning the phone sir," Havoc protested.

"Now." Roy hung up and went for his keys. He was going to the Elrics. He wanted to see Ed missing from that apartment, and then he wanted to know where the boy was. Why Ed would skip work, and then cancel their date. What could be so important? _What came before him!_

* * *

The Elric barrack parking lot was nearly overflowing with cars for an unknown, but infuriating, reason. Roy circled the lot three times, growing pissed enough to have someone towed, before he found a spot. As soon as he entered the building it was explained, with most of the first floor enjoying someone's birthday. Several of the downstairs rooms had their apartment doors permanently open, music up loudly, and commotion in almost the entire hall.

Thankful Ed was on the second floor, Roy took the stairs pocketing his keys. Ed's hall was quieter, but there was still traffic heading up and down. Soldiers who passed him, and recognized him out of uniform, gave quick solutes, but generally he went unnoticed in his civilian attire. Central Command was big, and there were many soldiers, and many higher-ups.

At the far end of Ed's hall a couple of party goers, looking drunk, and one with half a streamer hanging off his uniform pants strategically where another part of his anatomy might hang, were heckling a half-dressed soldier in his doorway. The man looked absolutely exhausted and was rejecting whatever was being offered before yelling to the few partiers traveling towards Ed's apartment that Alphonse was also wiped out, and to get the hell back downstairs because they needed to sleep.

Roy slowed his pace. The heckled soldier was specific, told the partying soldiers were to put it, and then went back inside, and slammed the door. Laughing loudly, the group from downstairs returned downstairs, and Roy approached Ed's door listening to the phone ringing from inside. Just as he approached Alphonse finally answered it with a loud, hate filled, "Hello!"

Verifying the hall was empty, Roy leaned to the peep-hole, and there was Alphonse standing in his boxers on the living room phone. He looked half asleep, and lifted and hand and slapped his own forehead before crying out, "You what!" His hand pushed up his forehead and fisted his roots angrily. "Nii-san, I swear to god," Alphonse said angrily, beginning a fast nodding. "Yes, yes, fine. I am on my way." Alphonse hung up and went stomping to the bedroom.

Roy stepped back from the door, contemplating his options. He could knock, demand to go with Alphonse, bump into Alphonse on his way out, or hang back and see what the hell was going on_. If Ed was neck-deep in a lie, would Alphonse lie to help cover him?_ The armor wouldn't have, but Alphonse was older now, and understood the flesh world again.

Roy stepped back and hid himself. Seconds later Alphonse ran from the apartment wearing a sweatshirt, infantry shorts, and sandals, with a pair of car keys dangling from his mouth.

_Car keys? _

Curious, Roy went to the hall window and waited for Alphonse to emerge outside. Like a bullet Alphonse shot out the main entrance and directly to an unknown blue car. Roy's jaw was on the floor when, underage and without a license, Alphonse turned the engine and reversed making it inches, _inches, _from ramming Roy's own car. Roy was biting his fist in suspense before darting from the window. _There was more going on than met the eye with the Elrics, and he was pissed!_ He left, storming down the hallway, before stumbling to a stop a few steps past the Elric door when it suddenly occurred to him: no one was home.

He looked back at the Elric doorknob. _Never locked._

Hesitating with uncertainly, he glanced up and down the vacant hallway several times, before walking to the apartment, stepping in, and closing the door behind him.

He felt scandalous entering without permission, but he wanted to know. _What in the hell was Ed doing now? _It was clear Ed found it more important than Roy and their possible relationship, and while this gave Roy the guilty sense of spiteful snooping, his professional concern as the Commanding Officer was taking precedence.

As Ed's colonel he had gracious authority over Ed. With suspicion of acts harmful to either Ed or the military, his jurisdiction extended to an intimidating degree, and invading Ed's apartment was not even worth note. Ed had signed away his rights when he signed on with the state.

Roy moved quickly. The living room had nothing for investigation aside from a few coffee table books he quickly flipped through:_ Advanced Chemical Transmutations, Material Alchemy As It Relates to Scientific Constructs, Shakespeare's Greatest, _and _Advanced Mathematical Concepts._ The books revealed nothing, if not mild agitation the Elrics were of the intelligence this was considered light reading. _Pain in the asses, both of them._

Roy went to the kitchen and patted about the top of the refrigerator looking for Ed's notes, but they were gone. Like the living room, the kitchen was relatively organized. The sink had some soiled dishes, but the counters were clean the same way the pillows were correctly propped in either corner of either couch. The boys weren't overly tidy, but they weren't pigs, and Roy left the kitchen and looked at the one doorway he'd never entered: _the bedroom._

The door was shut, and Roy knocked just to be safe, before opening it and flicking on the light.

The bedroom was the messiest room of the house, and for a confused moment Roy stared at the two twin beds, before their meaning sunk in: _Ed and Al were sharing a room_. It was both incredibly obvious, because it was a one bedroom apartment, and incredibly unexpected, because Roy had seen the bedroom door as Edward's bedroom, and therefore, illogically, envisioned no one but Ed inside it. This was supposed to be Edward's nest, the boy's reining fort of seclusion and secrets that Roy would now discover. Instead, very quickly Roy's presence inside the room became a foreign assailant on something very private. This wasn't Ed's personal space, of which Roy now felt he had some right to, and this wasn't Alphonse's personal space, of which Roy felt he had no right to. This was a weave of both boys together, and he was suddenly disrespectfully trampling over the intimacy of their brotherhood.

When Alphonse returned to his flesh self, Ed had vaguely alluded that Alphonse was struggling to acclimate to, what Ed called: cellular living. For Roy this defined a period of time where Ed looked under the weather with exhaustion, and Alphonse was never in the office. The military was politely accommodating of Alphonse's leave, but putting things nicely, was fiercely possessive of the Fullmetal Alchemist. Ed's leash was tightened. Roy's orders were to keep Ed busy with work, confine him to Central, and keep an eye on him. With such a great change in Ed's life, the military would risk nothing.

Roy followed orders, without disclosing them, and kept Ed close. With constant light work Ed was never overwhelmed, but Roy was careful not to grant Ed free time. He didn't know what Alphonse returning to the flesh entailed for the brothers, or their future plans. As long as he'd known Ed there was only one future: _Get the Philosopher's Stone, and restore our bodies. _While Ed eventually abandoned the desire for the stone, he never gave up his latter goal, and the military committees were made nervous by a boy who could make his brother's body disappear and reappear like a magician pulling a rabbit in and out of hat.

Roy was entrusted with ensuring possession of Edward Elric. During one memorable call, from a man of such rank Roy went straight-backed and saluted his empty office after introduction alone, he was ordered to do everything in his power to ensure Ed remained a happily enlisted soldier. The idea Ed had ever been happily enlisted seemed ass-backward to Roy.

The military's greatest love was power, and that came only after the immense love of wielding power, so by default, the military owned, and desired to always own, the powerful Edward Elric, whether Ed knew it or not.

Even though Ed gave no inclination he would now disagreed with the chains of his certification, the goal was to guarantee he would not. Roy shared this with Hawkeye, and with one small phrase she made Roy understand, rebellion was simply not on the table. _"Where would he go?" _she had asked, looking stunned, if not saddened, by the committee's misjudgment. _"This is all he knows." _

That was the truth, and from the day Alphonse returned to the flesh, Ed's schedule deviated only with requests for time off. He wanted to work from home, as much as possible, and he demanded to drop part time. _As if there was such a thing in the military. As if they served burgers and sodas and Ed had decided a forty hour work week was just a bit much, and twenty sounded better._

Ed went to work, went home, and repeated. Every spare minute was devoted in attention to his weak and recovering shriveled-mass of a brother. Absolutely everything, aside from basic function, stopped in Edward's life the minute Alphonse was reborn.

As one of the few women Ed knew and trusted in Central, Ed sought Hawkeye's guidance and the comfort of her ear while Alphonse was on leave. Respectfully, she was discrete, and whatever transpired between her and Ed was not shared with Roy. The greatest bit of understanding to what she might have done, and how serious Alphonse's condition really was, came with the unintentional overhearing of one of her phone calls. To an unknown caller Hawkeye confessed she knew a very sick boy, and the boy's brother was being driven up the walls under the stress of it.

Roy did not ease drop long. Hawkeye was careful, the way snipers always were, but in that short moment where Roy stopped before his office door, just about to enter, and listened to her soft female voice, he heard that she was teaching Ed to cook chicken soup, and that Ed was sleeping with Alphonse while Alphonse was sick.

Across the bedroom floor, between the two twin beds, like an invisible tether, were skid marks. The bed on the left, which appeared to be Ed's, had been shoved up against the other repeatedly.

Not a step inside, these scuffs made Roy a trespassing witness, violating something so pure and wholesome, his behavior suddenly filled him with filthy shame. _What are you doing, you walk into someone's apartment like this? Is this the authority of an honorable colonel? _

Roy's hand gripped the doorknob, shocked by himself, before the rational dictator of his mind came back strong. _You're not spying, _the voice of his inner logic was intense, _he ripped his own arm and leg off unsupervised. You're not spying._

Roy looked toward the left of the bedroom, what was apparently Ed's side. Alphonse had taken up the organized right, with a neatness that was honest in attempt next to the hurricane that was Ed.

Alphonse's bed, in the back right corner, was made, but the top of his dresser, which stood at the foot of it, was cluttered with belongings. The nightstand between the two twin beds was equally as crammed with items, but Ed's bed, the floor of the front left corner, desk, and the space leading to the back left closet, were a disaster.

Roy stepped in. Analyzing the psychological significance of this room was intense, and he breezed past the boys' beds and went to Ed's desk. It was so piled with notes and books nothing seemed accessible. There were pads of things scribbled, and arrays half made and altered. There were note cards, stickie notes, scraps of quickly written ideas, articles with alchemy or scientific data, and highlighted passages from many unknown sources.

Ed's thoughts appeared maddening and uncontrollable. Nothing about any reference book, or pad of paper was thin. Everything was heavy, leather-bound, of many pages, and crammed with page markers, pens, and paperclips. Across what was visible to the back of Ed's desk, several pages of incredibly small research font, had been taped up. Scattered about where formulas circled in red, and Ed's chicken scratch handwriting was scrolled all about the margins in a bouncing staccato of tiny letters that looked more like music notes from afar.

Overwhelmed, Roy lifted the top sheet of notes and looked at the wealth of material, trying to make sense of it. While nothing looked the same, pooling in from multiple fields and sources of varying skill sets, it was all of the same feared category:_ Marsisism Anatomy._

It was nervous system function, human cellular development, DNA composition, and Roy felt his stomach cramp up with eerie foresight. _Why was Ed so interested in this?_

There was an entire stack on bone structure, compounds, and muscular and skeletal development. It wasn't easy to read information, it was heavily advanced anatomy written by physicians for other physicians. To decipher this scholarship required intimate knowledge of subjects baffling to not just the average man, but the average scientist. Just as the array was nothing more than an image to those ignorant of alchemy, this material was gibberish to Roy, and he found it worrisome.

Ed appeared to be training himself to read like a surgeon, implying he was soon going to be acting like one. _This was not something Roy planned to approve. _Ed had a few well-loved journals made permanently open in the mess, and the muscular diagrams looked like red and white butchered and skinned animals. Stacked in piles were manuscripts with medical terminology Roy couldn't even decipher, and the notes on pediatric cellular and muscular growth made him shiver. _It was overwhelming_.

Ed's tiny penmanship was beginning to feel as if it were screaming, vibrating upward from the pages, springing outward with uncontainable momentum like bullets. This was Edward's velocity, and it was of speed, depth, and penetration that was insane to the sane. Whatever had happened to Edward's brain, it was profound, and Roy believed firmly, and without a shred of proof, it came from the depths of alchemy, from The Gate and Portal Ed had mentioned. It wasn't natural. Like a benign mutation this piercing disease had contorted the Elric brain scientifically, and left the rest of his mind limp and feeble with commonplace talent. It staggered forward as the routine Elric, with standard human momentum alongside the permanent, but poorly chained, raging monster.

Roy stepped back from Ed's desk with the same gripping sense of insignificance and weakness he'd felt when he learned a twelve year old had done-what and to-who in a standard basement. As if the insanity of the world, the carnivorousness of it all, was too massive and too powerful to ever control. It was the sense of being something small inside something large, and learning your every peaceful moment owning some semblance of power, was built on your own ignorance.

Running his hands through his hair Roy looked to Ed's closet with modest curiosity. _What more could be in there? _After seeing the desk, he almost didn't want to look. His eyes wandered over Ed's bed, full of pillows while Alphonse's held only one, to the nightstand between them.

This surface was also littered with papers and notes, but the sight of Roy's own penmanship stood out to him loudly. Ed had tacked a small stickie note to his nightstand, and in bright red pen Roy's handwriting read: _Be in my damn office by two._

The note was months old. Roy approached it and pet his index finger over the word office, before opening Ed's nightstand drawer. With mild humor he discovered laundry crammed inside. The second drawer brought mild anger, when he discovered a combination of Ed's clean boxer shorts and a small collection of classified notes by Marco. _Ed would get more than a little slap on his wrist if the military found out these were just resting in his bedroom._

Staring at them he debated his position. If he took them, Ed would know he had entered the apartment. If he confronted Ed, Ed would know he entered the apartment. Somehow the only option was to leave them, and that was difficult considering the criminal threat they posed. _The criminal threat Ed obviously did not fear with them casually in what appeared to be Ed's underwear drawer._

Angrily Roy shut the drawer. There was almost too much to process. Ed's possessions seemed almost as complicated as he was, and Alphonse's calm organized side of the room felt like it was laughing.

A distant voice broke Roy's concentration, and he glanced around for a clock. _How long had he been snooping?_ Quickly he left the bedroom and shut the door. Once in the living room, Alphonse's voice was unmistakable from the hallway.

Roy rushed to the peep-hole and looked out, but his visual showed nothing but the vacant hall before him. Alphonse's voice was several feet away on his left, and did not sound to be moving. With panic, Roy closed his eyes. He didn't want to explain what he was doing if he was found and he couldn't just clap his hands to make an array, he had to draw one. There was no time to start comedic wall port-holes he could climb through, and no way to know if neighbors were home! While soldiers might find the prank of Colonel-Stuck-In-Moody-Alchemist's-Apartment funny, there were many_ many_ other people who would not: the military's officers and Edward being two of the biggest.

Trapped with options he didn't like, Roy took the best tactic of war: _Stealth._ He ducked into the darkened Elric bathroom and waited at the doorway for a chance to slip out. All rooms were behind this one, and he felt confident he could escape if he had an opportunity to do so.

Alphonse was in conversation with a few soldiers. They sounded as if they belonged to the party downstairs, with loud energetic voices slurred and intoxication.

"I haven't heard anything like that," Alphonse was saying calmly. "She's a nice girl. Isn't she friends with what's-her-face, from document storage?"

"That's not what I heard." One of the soldiers was laughing.

"Yeah, Tom said she's a little nuts in the sack."

"I thought you two knew her. Aren't you in her building? Isn't she near Mustang's hall?"

Alphonse laughed, and he sounded closer. Roy realized he had misjudged Alphonse's voice, it wasn't stationary, it was approaching very slowly. "Are you asking if we know her, or know if she's nuts in the sack?" Alphonse's asked. A smile could be heard in his voice, but it was also strained, as if carrying something very heavy. Roy envisioned Alphonse holding a large wooden crate, cheeks pink with strain, and a crowd of half-dressed and half-drunk infantry men joyfully trotting along behind him.

"No, we're asking if you know her!"

"Will you three just fuck off!" Ed said, loud enough Roy heard this clearly. "Can't you see we're busy!"

"Ease up Elric, don't get your panties in a knot."

The rumbling sputtered laugh of drunken foolishness went through the soldiers, and one began making childish worrisome noises to mock Ed's threat.

"I can't believe you—I can't believe you two don't know anything!"

"Rumor is she thinks you're both really cute, but I am going to try and boink her. You two don't mind, right?"

"Who said she thinks we're cute?" Alphonse asked.

"You can have her," Ed said dryly, voice also incredibly strained. "Now, fuck off!" Roy imagined Ed carrying a large crate at Alphonse's side. "I mean it! Fuck off!"

The soldiers took Ed seriously, and while laughing amongst themselves, left with their uncoordinated steps thumping about in military boots. They called friendly obnoxious departures, descending the stairs with far too much noise, before the hall went silent.

Without the soldiers for navigation Roy found it impossible to locate either Elric. Their speed made their steps soft, and it wasn't until they were right outside the door that Alphonse spoke. In a soft controlled tone, he said, "You have no idea how furious I am." The common upbeat inflection to Alphonse's voice had snuffed out, and replacing it with a tone of intolerant exasperation. "I can't believe this nii-san, I am so pissed."

Alphonse opened the door with an angry shove inward, and then looked into the hall. Still in his shorts and sandals his sweatshirt was now missing, and his gaze was pinched with agitation. He made a jerked movement toward the bathroom, and Roy held his breath. "Nii-san, go to the couch, I'll grab some things from the bathroom."

* * *

Oh! A cliffhanger!

I do hope you all enjoyed this chapter – please try and review if you can. I can see lots and lots of you reading, following, and favoriting…but…sadly…not reviewing. _Why? Why would you do this so me?_ *sniffs

In this chapter I will ask one favor: If you have been reading and not yet reviewed, please leave one. (it can be short!)

For this, I will continue my honest best! Chapter 6: _Lack of Preventative Action by All Parties,_ will be up next Friday 7/26/13! I hope to see you there! (Alice, this earlier posting time is for you : )


	6. Lack of Preventative Action ByAllParties

Foolish For You  
Chapter Six  
_Lack of Preventative Action By All parties_

- mirage -

Roy forced himself to stay calm as his brain spiked into overdrive. What to say, how to say it, much of how badly this went would depend on his charisma as it happened! Alphonse took a step toward the bathroom, certain to find him, when Ed stopped this with a fast, "Get back here," and Alphonse stopped.

Alphonse turned to the apartment doorway and looked into the hall. Sounding drained and half asleep Ed added, "I don't think it's a good idea you drive anymore."

Alphonse's hand snapped up and pointed angrily into the hall where Roy assumed Ed was. "Don't you even start," Alphonse said, disappeared back into the hall.

Slowly, Roy exhaled.

After a moment of silence Alphonse reappeared with Ed's flesh arm looped over his shoulder helping Ed walk. Ed was wearing Alphonse's sweatshirt and participating so weakly Alphonse was more accurately dragging Ed with him.

"What should I do?" Alphonse asked, moving slowly in the direction of the couch.

Ed's head was tipped back, as if enduring the movement of his body was painful, and he answered with a flat, "Morphine."

"Nii-san, be serious." Alphonse kicked the front door so it slammed shut. He deposited Ed on the infamous couch and ran to the bedroom. The minute he was seated, Ed was rubbing at his face and head with his flesh hand and Roy didn't wait for another opportunity. He slipped from the bathroom and right out the front door.

He was fast, and that meant he was not entirely silent, and Ed sputtered a fast, "What the hell?" Roy took a cautious glance about the vacant hallway before leaning to the peep-hole and Ed was pushing himself to his feet with an expression of muddled skepticism trained on the door. "Did you just hear the door!" Ed called to Alphonse. Ed's gaze was so fierce Roy felt it penetrating directly into the peep-hole, and it gave him the nervous sensation of being spotted.

"Nii-san! You're laundry is out of control!"

"Alphonse, did you just hear the front door?" Ed asked again, limping a step forward with a heavy wince. "And I am going to—plan to put everything away later!"

Roy watched a small bead of blood appear on the top of Ed's forehead. It welled and then ran forward like a tear. Ed slapped at it. He pressed his flesh palm up into his hair and then ripped it back out to check his palm for blood. Alphonse was slamming things around in the bedroom, and Ed glanced to the bedroom doorway and said, "Stop being a jerk Alphonse."

"I should!" Alphonse said, words bursting out quickly before going silent with indecisiveness. "I should start kicking your ass nii-san!" A drawer opened and was roughly shut. Ed ignored Alphonse, and returned to the couch. He sat down slowly, and took a tight enduring grip on the edge of the seat cushion. "You know! Like Roy always used to say!"

_Used to? _Roy thought.

"Do we have to do this now?" Ed asked miserably. Alphonse appeared in the bedroom doorway with a handful of bandages and a bottle of disinfectant spray. His expression was exaggerated with angry accusation, and Ed groaned. "Come on, my head is bleeding!" Ed complained loudly.

"Nii-san, you're the one who put yourself in this position." Alphonse began angrily shaking the disinfectant as if it were spray paint. Struggling between pity and fury. "What happened to you!" He went quickly to the couch with a mess of extra clothing wadded under his arm, and tossed it to Ed's side. Ed had his eyes closed, patiently tolerating his pain. "What did he do to you?"

"_What did he do_." Ed scoffed, opening his eyes a crack. "He beat the shit out of me!" Ed yelled, gesturing widely to his disheveled appearance. "Isn't it obvious!" Ed's voice was saturated with flustered suffering, but also sounded skittish, and it cracked when Ed raised it.

_Roy sandwiched himself to the door. He'd never heard Ed's voice do anything like that._

Alphonse was silent. With his left hand he gently brushed Ed's bangs back from Ed's face, and continued shaking the disinfectant in his right. Ed was breathing quickly with distressed discomfort, and it kept his chest lifting and dropping heavily as if he'd been jogging. "Okay nii-san," Alphonse said, tucking Ed's hair behind his ear. Alphonse's voice was soft and full of empathy. "Nii-san, you're too strong to let other people beat on you. Now you look like you need to cry."

"No, I don't!" Ed snapped, defensive and outraged. "I am so—I am so—I am so pissed off!" Alphonse left for the bathroom, and Roy felt a rush of relief he'd taken the first opportunity to escape and not been discovered now. "And I—and I am shaking with rage!" Ed lifted his hands and looked at how they were quivering.

Alphonse returned to the couch with a bowel of disinfectant, and bin of medical supplies. "Just tell me exactly what happened," Alphonse said. He set everything on the coffee table, wrung out the cloth, and brought it to Ed's forehead.

"He's freaking insane," Ed said, flinching back from the cloth. "I told you that." Alphonse followed Ed, leaning inward and dabbing at Ed's bleeding hair-line. "I said I thought he was skitzo. And he," the dabbing continued, "A—and he—stop it!" Ed batted at Alphonse's hands, but Alphonse ignored this and tried to continue until Ed yanked the cloth away. "Stop it I said! Stop wiping me with things, don't wipe me with things!"

"Nii-san." Alphonse snatched Ed's hands and held them tight in his own. "Look at me," Alphonse said firmly. Ed was suddenly too upset and uncomfortable to sit still. The awkward sensation of being wiped clean brought back haunting memories of surgery and recovery. After the evening's physical assault Ed wanted to get up and move around to assert his own ability, while his body, yet again, seemed injured and cramped. "Nii-san!" Alphonse lifted his voice sternly before dropping it to a tender loving tone, and said, "Look at me."

Ed sputtered a heavy breath and wearily moved his gaze to Alphonse.

"Where are you?" Alphonse asked. Ed was stubbornly silent. "Nii-san?"

"Home," Ed said miserably.

"Where are you nii-san?"

"Home!"

Alphonse smiled with satisfaction and released Ed's hands. His gaze moved to Ed's bloody forehead, and sounding disappointed, he said, "He hit you a lot."

"Everything hurts," Ed said. Alphonse picked the rag back up and continued. "He really…scared the shit out of me. Just went off like a bomb."

The suspense was killing Roy. _Who!_ He wanted to know who! _Who was this!_

"It's not worth it nii-san," Alphonse said. Ed reeled back from Alphonse with shock, and gave Alphonse a scolding look. _Was Darwin not worth it? Was Einstein not worth it? Was Newton and gravity, and Relativity, and Penicillin, and DNA, and Quantum Theory, not worth it!_

"Bullshit it's not," Ed snapped.

"It's not," Alphonse said confidently. "Not worth this at all."

"Look at this." Ed reached inside Alphonse's sweatshirt and pulled out a poorly shuffled and crumpled fat collection of papers. "All from today. He was prattling on and on like a drunken genius, I couldn't write fast enough." Ed gave the notes a meaningful shake. "I think I almost have enough."

Alphonse took the research and set it on the coffee table before grasping the bottom of Ed's sweatshirt to take it off. Ed looked discouraged Alphonse wasn't more impressed with the new research, but didn't address it. It was somehow clear to them both that Ed's priority was the research and Alphonse's priority was Ed's well-being. With unspoken understanding they knew the other couldn't be persuaded, and politely abided.

"I hate it," Alphonse said simply. Addressing the unspoken as clearly as if it were spoken. He pulled the sweatshirt up with Ed groaning, and Ed popped free looking destroyed.

Over his traditional black leather pants Ed wore a loose black sweater that was now in tatters. Pieces of it looked like strings of yarn, and the color of Ed's red under shirt was coming through in long diagonal stripes.

Alphonse stepped back holding the sweatshirt with his mouth open in shock. Ed's clothing wasn't just ripped, it was dirty. There was mud, and something that looked like flecks of paint amongst unmistakable alchemy chalk. The automail arm was entirely exposed, leaving half of Ed's right sleeve in a collection of flag waving strips. Ed didn't look victim to a scuffle, he looked as if he'd been ambushed in a warehouse by several strong armed men!

Becoming panicked Alphonse pushed a distracted hand into his own hair and yelled, "Are you kidding!" His hand shot out in gesture of Ed's torn clothing. "Are you freaking kidding!"

"I ripped it up myself!" Ed said, trying to defend himself pitifully.

"Because you transmuted your arm!" Alphonse cried. "You felt it necessary to transmute your arm! Nii-san, my god! What would you transform your arm for! Did he come at you with a weapon?" Alphonse added his second hand to his hair, and looked as if he were fighting off a migraine. Ed grunted softly with discomposure, but didn't answer, and Alphonse escalated. "You won't say!" Alphonse cried. Ed's silence was as polite as it was direct. "That's freaking great," Alphonse snapped. "You wouldn't have transmuted your arm if things hadn't gotten to that level, and I know it!"

"What level?" Ed scoffed.

"Danger," Alphonse said seriously. "You thought you were in danger!" He gestured again to Ed's clothing. "Get it off, you're filthy!"

Ed lifted his immune automail arm easily, but the flesh arm was sore and raised only a few inches. Ed offered his clothed wrists and said, "Pull." Alphonse took hold and helped peel up Ed's sweater and long sleeve shirt. "And I didn't think I was in danger!" Ed yelled from inside his shirt as it slid up over his head. His body was equally dirty, and looked bruised.

Alphonse tossed Ed's clothing to the floor. "You know what I think?" Alphonse said. "I think it's your coat." Alphonse handed Ed the disinfectant spray and Ed positioned it to spray his chest before stopping and looking up with an expression of skeptical annoyance.

"Are you serious, Alphonse," Ed said dryly.

"He hates red you said!"

"He's not a bull!" Ed snapped, beginning a long panning spray over his chest. "Melander is perfectly fine before he loses touch."

_MELANDER: _The name shot through Roy like a bullet. The Walker Case, the name Melander was all over the Walker Case. A renowned scientist, Melander had been banished from the field of pioneering Alchemy-Anatomy, and was stripped of his medical and state license two years ago for committing raw acts against science. His military file branded him a revolutionary prodigy, and the last known field of research was the up and coming fantasy of Marsisisms. Something too complex for Roy as a Flame Alchemist, but summarized easily by name, which translated to the Alchemy of Blood Code. The manipulation of the most intimate map of human information: DNA and cell._ Of course! It all made sense! _

Melander was also a fugitive of the law. Escaping military custody during the heat of his charges, his whereabouts were unknown. While they hadn't done anything officially, it was largely speculated that he was involved in their recent murders because Melander had the talent for both the crimes and the evasion. Any military personnel to suspect Melaner's location, never mind confirm it, were under mandatory orders to report it._ Ed's failure__ to report Melander's location was far worse than him harboring Marco's illegal books!_

"Did you skip work for this?" Alphonse asked. Ed pressed the rag to his face and groaned. "You're going to piss off the colonel." Alphonse sounded exhausted. "You're going to get yelled at."

"Roy can bite me," Ed said, wiping his face clean before balling the rag up and holding it to his forehead. "I am the one walking around with this burden." Ed hooked a thumb over his shoulder and lifted his gaze to Alphonse. "My backs bleeding," Ed said.

Looking confused, Alphonse walked around the couch to see Ed's back, and the look on his face said it all. "Nii-san!" Wordlessly Ed handed Alphonse a package of gauze and the disinfectant spray. "You can't keep this up! I really don't like it!" Alphonse set out bandaging Ed's back, and Ed ignored Alphonse's comments. "What are you going to do about the colonel?"

"I don't know, make something up." Ed said, giving a heavy procrastinating sigh. That was one conversation he was not looking forward to. "Say I just ditched for the hell of it, or maybe...yeah that's probably it."

"No, I meant what are you going to do with Roy?" Alphonse asked. "You know, didn't you have a date?"

"I had to cancel."

"He called here looking for you, but I don't know what time, I was asleep."

Ed lifted his head with new concern. "I told him I was with you," Ed said, looking back over his shoulder.

Alphonse was securing the gauze to Ed's back and paused in his work. He looked up and stared back at Ed before softly muttering, "I…said...you weren't home."

"Oh Alphonse!" Ed cried, immediately pushing up from the couch. "Come on!" Ed said, visibly wincing and limping forward a few steps. "Dammit! The man's a bloodhound with this shit! He's going to be all over me!" _How right this was. _"One slip up, and he knows I am lying!"

"Nii-san, I didn't know!" Alphonse said. Ed threw the rag at the coffee table sulking. "It's not my fault my brother didn't give me any type of heads-up for this behavior." Alphonse was scolding. "And how are you going to hide this from Roy anyway! You're going to tell him, right?"

"What!" Ed was scared of this idea. "No way! I can't!" Roy was flush to the door. _Why! Why couldn't Ed tell him? Why was Ed keeping this all a secret? What was so important about all of this! _"Roy would kill me if he knew I was touching base with Melander! I am breaking the law not turning Melander in, and Roy is not going to take my side with that. He'll crucify me!"

"That's not what people do when they're seeing each other nii-san, you're not even giving Roy a chance to evaluate things, you're just being deceitful."

"Because I am not giving him the chance to crucify me!" Ed said, lifting both of his arms in the exaggerated toss of a conductor. "First he'd box my ears, and then he'd slap me with fines and shit, as he forces me to give up Melander, and I am not giving up Melander," Ed said firmly, pointing at Alphonse's argumentative expression. "I mean it Al."

Calmly Alphonse said, "I think you should give up Mela," but Ed cut him off with a loud, correcting, "I am not giving up Melander!" Ed began a fast limping walk to the bedroom. The more Ed moved about in the light, the more scuffs Roy could see on Ed's body. "I mean that. I am not doing it," Ed said angrily.

"You're not going to be able to hide this from the colonel, nii-san," Alphonse scolded. "How are you going to explain all these small cuts and bruises?" Ed stopped walking and looked worried. He lifted a hand to his mouth and rubbed at it thinking. "And your limp?" Alphonse added. "And that skittish way you get after fights?"

Ed's expression was growing worse. "I don't know," Ed said, sounding uncertain. "How bad is the bruising?"

Alphonse gave an exaggerated wincing expression, and said, "Pretty bad nii-san." Looking sympathetic Alphonse added, "You can tell someone hit you in the face too."

Ed lifted a hand to his face and ran it over his features before holding his eyes. "You can tell?" Ed pinched the bridge of his nose. "I was just sitting with him, and we were working. Then he set his pencil down and the next thing I knew," Ed shrugged, "he grabbed me by the shirt and just had at me. I tried to block his blows but he became…unreasonable," Ed said softly. "I left running."

Alphonse crossed the room quickly, looking fierce with concern. "Nii-san, this is getting really out of hand," Alphonse said softly. "He's getting worse." Ed was quiet. In silent confession it was obvious Ed knew Melander was getting worse. "We don't run away from a fight," Alphonse said, tone firm with conviction. "This equation is no good. What if he really wallops you next time? What if you're knocked unconscious and stuck there? He's getting confused. He doesn't know who you are when he attacks you, you said so yourself." Alphonse gave his head a quick worried shake. "He might get so confused he'd try to kill you."

"I am not going to let anyone kill me," Ed said, becoming annoyed.

"The way you're not going to let anyone beat the crap out of you?"

"That's different," Ed said quickly. "A beating I can take if I want. It's worth it to get what I need. Being dead is something different, don't be stupid Al."

"You said he gets strong enough to overpower you."

"I never said overpower," Ed corrected. "I said _powerful_, he gets powerful, and that makes it difficult."

"You said he thought you were a girl once." Ed had an argument for this as well, but Alphonse had already heard it. "I don't care!" Alphonse snapped, stopping Ed before he could speak. "Your hair was down, I know. Melander was tired, I know. He was already losing touch, but you decided to stay because the research was good, I know. That time everything was okay, what if next time everything is not okay?"

Ed began shaking his head with refusal and disagreement. "That's impossible," Ed said. "I don't fight him too aggressively when he's loses it Al. I try and defend myself sure, but I don't attack. I promise you, if he ever did anything where I needed to, I would."

Alphonse whimpered a soft panicky sound. "But what if you couldn't?" Alphonse whined. "Nii-san, it's one thing if you're operating like this on our schedule, but the colonel is adding some real risk. You don't tell me when you're going, so what's to stop me from assuming that you're with Roy, and not with Melander? If you didn't come back tonight, I would have thought you were at Roy's! I would have gone to work and no one would have realized you were missing until tomorrow at five!" Alphonse's voice was becoming shrill and panicky. "You know what an insane person, never mind an alchemist, is capable of with that much time to operate! I mean, look what we did in our basement!"

Ed appeared accepting of Alphonse's concern until their mother was brought up. Then, instantly Ed's expression hardened. His flesh hand shot out and grabbed Alphonse's arm, and pointing firmly with the automail, a metal finger pegged Alphonse in the chest.

Ed's actions looked like those of angry person, but there was nothing hostile about them. He pulled Alphonse to him, moving them intimately to stand directly in front of each other and then in a very soft tone said, "We both know I am stronger than that." There was nothing but comfort to Ed's voice and eyes, and Roy was mesmerized. "Nothing will happen to me. I will always keep you safe, and I will always be here."

Suddenly, much of what seemed to be frustration in Alphonse's expression was clearly defined as the panicky fear of a younger brother. "What would I do?" Alphonse whimpered. Ed took Alphonse in a tight hug. "After everything, to lose you to something so stupid would be unbearable."

Ed smiled. "I know," he said in agreement. "But, you're not going to lose me. So don't worry." Ed looked peaceful with Alphonse in his arms, and closed his eyes for a moment of respite. The apartment went silent for the duration of the hug, before Alphonse opened a new topic.

"Now if you start fighting with the colonel, I am going to have to deal with your whining and cursing." Alphonse disengaged and Ed limped off toward the bedroom. "All your, _that stupid jerk this_, and, _dumb bastard that_. _Roy doesn't listen to what I say, Roy doesn't listen to what I do, Roy treats me like crap. Roy rules like a king, blah blah blah._

"Roy does rule like a king!" Ed snapped irritably. "That dumb bastard."

"Seems you fault the colonel for lack of information, but deliberately keep things from his knowledge. That's a bit like tainting your own experiment nii-san."

Ed was almost to the bedroom and this comment made him stop. "That's not true!" Ed whirled around to face Alphonse looking shocked. "I do tell him how I feel!"

"Yeah," Alphonse mocked. "In Edward-Code."

Roy lifted his fist and gave it a victory shake. _Yes! Yes! Alphonse was on his side! _Hearing Alphonse comfortably articulate Ed's behavior as coded made him feel both sane and reasonable. It wasn't him giving and reading signals incorrectly; Ed was encrypted, and arrogantly Ed expected everyone to just have the key!

"I don't care," Ed said, disappearing into the bedroom. "I am a genius, let me have my quirks."

Alphonse smiled. "That's funny nii-san," Alphonse commemorated. Ed came limping back carrying a fresh pair of boxers and grabbed the pajamas on the couch. "That joke was actually funny." Alphonse dropped a hand onto Ed's head while Ed was stooped down picking up his clothes. "You want to take a bath now nii-san?"

"Yes," Ed said dryly, batting Alphonse away. "Stop mothering me Al."

Alphonse's look of worry returned. "Nii-san, what if he hurt your automail?"

Ed shivered. "Okay, stop it—stop it. We could what-if all night Al. Now I just want to take a bath and go to sleep. I am so tired." Ed left limping for the bathroom, and Alphonse staying in the living room looking worn-out and worry stricken. He sat down on the couch and piled Ed's soiled clothes onto the coffee table. In the bathroom Ed was filling the tub, and the running water gave a low hum.

"Nii-san, why don't you let me call Roy," Alphonse said, first sounding sincere before growing a smile and playful tone. "I bet he misses you."

"No!" Ed sounded frazzled with this suggestion. "I can't let him see me like this!" The water turned off and Ed stepped into the bathroom doorway slumped over in just his underwear. Ed gestured to himself, and his body was dirty and hurt. His eyes looked tired, and Alphonse was right, Ed looked as if he'd taken a few to the face. "No way, no way," Ed said, shaking his head and returning to the bathroom. Ed shut the door half way and climbed into the tub groaning loud enough Roy could hear it.

"I bet Roy could make you feel better," Alphonse said, busying himself. He carried Ed's laundry to the bedroom, and brought the bowl of water and medical supplies to the kitchen. He again sounded sincere, but by the time Alphonse returned to the living room he had a mischievous grin and added, "I bet Roy would make you feel _much much_ better."

Ed, sounding none too impressed, gave a low warning, "Alphonse, stop."

"He could help you change into nice clean clothes." Alphonse was grinning from ear to ear, and walked to the bathroom and stood talking to the door. "Maybe, since you're so miserable, he'd…do some other stuff to calm you."

"Al!" Ed yelled. "Stop!"

"What?" Alphonse asked, feigning innocence. "Get your head out of the gutter nii-san, I was taking about cocoa or something." Alphonse left to the bedroom laughing softly to himself.

Roy wished for a peep-hole in every room of the Elric apartment. In minutes he learned more than he did in months with how cryptic and discrete the brothers could be. Inside the apartment, not a barrier was up. The truth was open, naked, and confident.

Ed was in the tub while Alphonse tidied up making light chatter. The topic moved quickly, and for a few minutes was saturated with such advanced equations Roy had a hard time keeping up. The way the brothers could rattle them off was maddening. They were spelling out in Roy's head in periodic elements like a sloppy alphabet soup, and it brought the stammering incompetent feeling Roy had when he began learning alchemy.

The better you understood the composition of everything around you, the better you were as an alchemist. This explained why most alchemists catered to a niche field, because that level of memorization, never mind application, was staggering. Roy had chosen fire, and so while he knew, understood, and could ramble off fire composition, that of a simple brick wall, or stone path, was difficult for him. He could burn it, but he couldn't turn it into many things, and what he could manage, took him a considerable amount of time. This made him a weak alchemist, but a fantastic flame alchemist. While Fullmetal had chosen a broader general scale, he lost the niche talent, but gained the respect held by all general alchemists. General alchemy was harder than anything specialized, because the wealth of knowledge needed was so much grander. Ed could manipulate a brick wall or stone path without a moment's thought, and this versatile aptitude meant in many ways, he was stronger.

Taking a bath Ed was drawling off equations that Roy, to date, still couldn't manage, and Alphonse was picking them up and expanding them. In some sick game the boys seemed to be engaging each other mentally, and it was clear that Ed was leading and Alphonse was following.

It wasn't until Alphonse finished all he seemed about to do, and was in pajamas outside the bathroom door the conversation returned to the events of the night. Sounding tired Alphonse said, "I think one of us should really call the colonel nii-san. He's going to put two and two together eventually, that's why they pay him to be the colonel."

Again Roy commemorated Alphonse with a triumphant shake of his fist. _Alphonse recognized his intelligence, and was on his side!_

"They pay him to be the colonel because he's a bastard," Ed said. Ed's sounded lulled into a relaxed indifference, but Roy found this comment annoying. It seemed hypocritically unfair and just plain stupid Ed was still calling him a bastard while begging for a relationship. "He's not going to figure anything out," Ed said, sounding unsure to them all. "Don't worry about it, can I sleep with you tonight?"

This question through Roy for a loop, but Alphonse's expression was unchanged. His brow tightened as if something about this was unexpected and brought mild fret, but calmly responded with a, "You don't have to ask nii-san."

"I know."

Roy stared at Alphonse through the peep-hole. A pang of jealousy appeared with the idea of Ed desiring to curl up and seek comfort from a third party. Studying Alphonse's casual and tired looking self, it was curious to note that not much of this sensation went away when Roy considered it was Alphonse Ed was seeking. Something to the tune of, _get off my lawn, _had welled, and stayed.

Alphonse left and went to bed. From the peep-hole Alphonse's s bed was just visible as a dark mass the boy climbed onto. While Alphonse was snuggling in, Ed climbed out of the tub with the automail dripping and leaking so the sound of a running fountain was loud and messy sounding. Ed toweled off quickly, and left the bathroom shortly there after in pajama pants. He climbed into Alphonse's bed, dragging in his own blanket and so many pillows, Alphonse sat up arguing. Ed ignored this, forcing things in, and shoving Alphonse's belongings over to make room.

Ed wanted Alphonse to alchemy-dry his bandages, and that was done, before they both collapsed onto separate sides of the bed with Ed complaining his body was aching and Alphonse scolding that they were walking on thin ice toying with Roy's involvement so close to Melander.

It drove Roy mad to hear how sensible Alphonse sounded. Somehow understanding the clear path didn't mean you took it. Ed did not change his actions, and Alphonse did nothing to change Ed's actions. Perhaps the worst, Roy considered while driving himself home: he observed, but also did nothing to change either his own, nor Ed and Al's actions. Together, they were all on the same sinking ship, watching the water level rise, but reluctant to admit the situation.

Driving peacefully with the window down and his mind miles away, Roy reviewed all he knew about Melander from past case files, and general military rumor. He wasn't without responsibility in all this. He was going to have to address Ed's absenteeism, and Melander? Oh, he had plans for Melander when he found him.

* * *

Hawkeye appeared in military Records and approached Roy looking discouraged with his behavior. She addressed him with a flat toned, "Sir," a half an hour sooner than Roy had expected. Politely she nether addressed or accused him of shirking.

"Yes Lieutenant?" Roy said, nose deep in a book, and flipping pages quickly.

"Sir, how long do you think it will take them to notice?"

Roy had assumed one of the many tables provided for review of Records materials and was delving through the collection he had assembled as fast as possible. Due to the sensitivity of the data, and the fact most of it was classified, it couldn't be removed from the room. While office work was often stuffy, it did not leave enough free time to pursue hobbies while on the clock.

"Are you implying the council will come to realize I've muted the phone and am not really in the office listening to the call?" Roy asked, opening a binder of classified case files and skimming through notes.

Hawkeye groaned, because they both knew that's exactly what she was implying. With exasperation she took a seat in the chair across from Roy and gave him a kind smile. "You can't fault me for worrying," she said, propping her head in her hands and indicating the binder with a small jut of her chin. "Why the sudden interest in these cases?"

Roy was flipping pages quickly, looking for clarification on one small fact. "Why was Jacob Melander's license revoked?" Roy asked.

"Raw acts against science."

These words repeated in Roy's mind. They typed out in small book sized font, and then scribbled out in military penmanship on loose leaf. Yes, raw acts against science. Were they all so busy they were just regurgitating rhetoric without any real understanding of why Doctor Melander was no longer a doctor? Did we all just assume there was someone who knew more, while the military council had made sure no one actually did?

Every report listed that exact sentence. One neat line stopping a tirade of a career. _Raw acts against science. _Raw implying bad, and science implying not to be trifled with. You didn't need to know the details to know you also supported the outlawing of raw acts against science, because those acts were bad, and science was not to be trifled with.

"But what does that mean?" Roy asked, lifting his gaze to Hawkeye. She frowned with a bit of puzzled contemplation and disagreement. Already she heard his implication, and it worried her. _Digging into the military's cellar never went well for them. _"What raw act was he committing?" Roy offered the binder and she took it with masked intrigue. "Where is he now?"

Hawkeye looked over the open pages. "Initially I heard he was confined to the city, but after his escape I didn't hear much. I didn't follow the case, but we have jurisdiction to apprehend him if we can find him."

Roy found these words interesting. _We have jurisdiction…we…as in the military._ "Will you look through this?" Roy asked, pushing his pile of books towards her. "Make note of anything that seems odd." He stood up to leave, and Hawkeye looked rightfully shocked. "I want to know why Melander was so involved in Marsisisms."

Hawkeye was further stumped, and with the tone you'd use to correct a numskull statement she said, "Sir, it's the latest alchemy fad." Her comment railroaded Roy, and he stopped. "Every up-and-coming alchemist is trying to dabble in it. We even have the beginning 101 concepts being taught to new State Alchemists."

"I had no idea," he said, stunned. "Do you know what we're teaching?"

Hawkeye cracked a playfully wry smile and said, "Are you asking a sniper about alchemy?" She laughed. "I understand Marsisims formula about as well as I can read directions to bake a layered cake." She made her right hand a gun and squinted an eye over her thumb knuckle as if taking aim. "Now give me something to shoot…and that's a different story."

Roy smiled. He pulled his keys from his pocket and pointed at his research material. Grinning he said, "Let me know what you find." He left in a quick walk, and she turned around in her chair with surprise.

"Sir!" She called. "I wanted to talk to you!"

"Later!" He held up a stationary hand as a wave.

"But my sister is coming down!" Roy shuddered and left the library as quickly as possible. He returned to his office and Havoc was inside hard at work, buried in papers, and on the phone, but immediately gestured they had business.

This was pleasantly unexpected, and Roy returned to his desk. His speaker phone was still chirping away. The toils of a new arsenal system hard at work turning everything and everyone ass-backward. After forty minutes Havoc appeared and solute in front of it.

"Do you have anything good?" Roy asked, papers in hand.

Havoc chuckled, and immediately took a seat. "This was my favorite assignment sir," Havoc said, giving his stomach an exaggerated pat.

"How much lunch did you expense?" Roy asked. He pressed his finger to his lips, unmuted his phone, and said, "I am sorry, can you repeat that last part?" before hitting mute again. The Southern Colonel fumbled before respectively repeating the last sentence.

Roy turned to Havoc and steepled his fingers below a wide grin. "Report," he said. "And start from the beginning."

"All right." Havoc sat up straighter. "I did what you said and started casually." Havoc laughed the humorous devious laugh of a jock used to pranking nerds. Roy found this infectious, and broke a satisfied grin. _Ed was nothing, if not great to tease._ "I tried to pull some information out of him, but he's much sneakier than he looks Colonel. Ed wasn't telling me anything." Roy was not surprised, and that was why he had chosen Havoc.

Jean Havoc was creative, unbelievable good at thinking in a pinch, and drastically, and most importantly, underestimated. Ed would not see Havoc coming, and certainly not see him as a threat. Havoc had years ago identified himself as a buddy, getting Ed alcohol, including him in parties, coaching him through a mess of first-times. The list was as endless as it was obscure, from Ed's first cigarette, to Ed's first long-range cannon, and Ed's first fight with a co-worker. Havoc was there every time, handing over the cigarette, explaining how to aim, and looping an arm around Ed's black-eyed and bloody-nosed self, cheering. Everything Havoc wished he could do at Ed's age, he worked to offer to Ed, and this was for the majority undamaging, and certainly harmless when Roy considered what Ed managed unsupervised. If Havoc's drinking-smoking-enabling-chaperone was all we could get, we'd take it, and we wouldn't look back.

Sending Havoc to find out what Ed was up to now, was sending the most inconspicuous mole possible. Havoc's nagging would not seem like probing the way it would from any other soldier, and Ed might be annoyed, but he would not be suspicious.

"So, then I followed him to find out where he was going," Havoc said. "Turns out he's going downtown to the back of some old building on one of our dormant lots and doing something. Looks like studying because he goes with papers and comes back with more of them. Odd times too, it was really hard keeping track of him. Plus he used different routes, different means of travel, and alchemy to manipulate the path. I lost him five out of the seven times I tracked him." Havoc opened a palm with all five fingers raised and didn't look embarrassed, but proud he'd managed any success at all. They both knew Ed was as thorough as he was paranoid, and that meant any victory on their end was product of exemplary work.

"You couldn't figure out what he was doing there?" Roy asked.

Havoc slouched back into his chair with a sigh. "No, he didn't slip up once, and to keep my cover I couldn't confront him. I deliberately crossed his path twice when it wouldn't be suspicious and tried to invite him along so he'd have to cancel and explain why, but it didn't work out. He'd tell me he couldn't join, and if I became too pushy or bothersome, he'd just tell me to fuck off and go on his way." _That sounded like Ed. _"I couldn't weasel anything out of the exchanges. So I started trying here in office. Hitting him up in the break room or cafeteria when I could find him, but it was useless. I think he was growing suspicious because all of his light chatter was really obscure. The few times I could get him to hold a conversation, all he wanted to talk about what hypothetical romance stuff. I think he's got a girlfriend or something." Havoc laughed like a jock who finds his favorite nerd doing a crush's homework instead of buying her chocolates.

"Really?" Roy set his hands down with immediate interest. "Why do you say this?"

"He asked me for some advice." Havoc had a wide shit eating grin. It was obvious he was getting a kick out of this, and seemed flattered Ed was looking to him.

"Like what?" Roy asked.

Havoc glanced thoughtfully to the side and clucked his tongue while trying to recall a juicy one. "He was careful there too," Havoc said, speaking slowly as if he couldn't secure an example, before suddenly sitting upright in his chair, and exclaiming, "Oh!" Havoc reached forward and gave the edge of Roy's desk an excited slap. "This one was good. He wanted to know what he could get for a person that wasn't a sappy gift to get." Havoc laughed. "He said traditional things like chocolates and flowers were too cliché and he wanted something else." Havoc shrugged and sat back. "I told him jewelry, but he didn't seem to think this idea was very good." Havoc scoffed. "No woman turns down jewelry, and I told him so. Listen to the master, I said."

"What did he say?" Roy asked, smiling.

"Wanted to know if boobs really felt like water balloons." Roy burst out laughing. "Anyway, I think he's got a crush on one of the girls here. He's been beating around the bush on gifts and ways to, you know, tell a girl you like her. His brother is dating that chick over in...what is it, printing? Records? She's real cute, but too young."

"Dating her?" Roy asked, leaning back and slouching down with stomach filling satisfaction. _This story just kept developing._

"Yeah, that's the rumor."

"It's a rumor?" _Deeper and deeper went the rabbit hole._

"Widespread," Havoc said. "Breda's got this noob who has been following him around, and this noob's brother had a thing for her, and challenged Alphonse to a boxing contest. Rumor is, Alphonse beat the shit out of the kid." Havoc gave the edge of Roy's desk another quick slap as if to say: _isn't that the shit!_ "I would have loved to see it!"

Roy found this a bit exaggerated. "That seemed a bit exaggerated."

Havoc gave a shrug. "Breda said the noob's brother had a black eye and everything. Said Alphonse started real nice, but when the kid got nasty, Alphonse let him have it. That sounds like the Elrics to me."

Roy agreed. "Passive unless provoked."

"I made you a fake audit on spare uniforms available on the floor," Havoc said, still grinning. "All the metrics you'll want are in there. I have the dates and times I followed him, and every mode of transpiration and trick he used. Sir, honestly, probably three out of the five work days, Ed isn't here."

This was not a surprise to Roy. Now that he knew what he did about Melander, Ed's absences seemed a bit more…justified than they had previously, and he knew that was causing a bias.

"Tell me Havoc, after Fullmetal's rendezvous, does he ever seem..." Roy hesitated to use the word injured. Havoc's pride as a soldier would catch this, and Havoc would, unconscious or not, start watching Ed more closely. While Havoc seemed more than comfortable letting Ed work himself in and out of scrapes with men of lesser rank, he took the serious things serious. When Ed was almost fourteen he'd talked himself into a never-ending verbal argument with the Gold Silt Alchemist, and every time they crossed paths things grew ugly. Havoc changed his normal coffee routine almost immediately so he could shadow Ed in the halls. His bystander self, even as a Lieutenant, defused the situation to something tolerable. Giving Havoc even a whiff of what might be going on now would not be good. It would be impossible to exclude him if things became messy. "Does he ever look fatigued?" Roy asked.

Havoc's lighthearted expression soured, but with perfect accuracy he said, "Yeah, he usually is. It's hard to track him in route, but I can usually find him again afterward. Several times he was just sitting down somewhere close. He seemed out of breath, or lost in thought, whatever he's studying must be a real brain teaser." Havoc slapped his hands down on either knee and looked at Roy expectantly. This was classic Havoc, and meant reporting was over, there was nothing else to say.

Roy dismissed Havoc and dug into his In-Bin seeking the pointless audit on uniforms. It was there, and the list of dates and times was confounding. Ed's fulltime job mine as well be to his own recreational hobbies. The labor allocation was insulting!

While he had initially planned to confront Ed with this and demand report on what Ed was doing with his military paid time, as was his right, now he was hesitant. If he asked Ed to report, he didn't trust Ed not to manipulate his facts like a squirrel trying to keep his nuts. Whatever was going on here, Ed didn't want it taken from him, and he didn't want outside interference. Keeping things a secret from Alphonse made that clear. Roy wasn't about to pretend he could throw around more weight than Alphonse had with Ed, on a personal level, although he did expect to be able to professionally.

Roy requested Ed be sent to him and continued working. Demanding a report would be useless, and standing Ed before his desk in punishment until he received obedience, wouldn't work with the stakes this high. It was no longer appropriate, Ed wasn't twelve anymore. Additionally Roy found it more likely Ed would stand like a statue until he pissed himself and fainted with dehydration than crack. To address this as an equal, and certainly as any type of partner, he would have to convince Ed to recognize the situation, and agree with him. This was the only way to bridge with Ed personally, without professionally ordering him to safety.

Ed arrived at Roy's office an hour late from time requested, and entered without knocking. Back in his traditional outfit with the red coat, almost all of last night's scuffs were hidden. Ed looked untouched, if not a bit bored, disinterested, and sour. He didn't know what to expect when he received the message Roy wanted to see him. Somehow after all these years, the game had suddenly changed, and everything in front of him was white with absent void. Was he supposed to be excited to see Roy, like he was outside of work? Or were they going to continue their entertaining game of witty insulting banter?

Starting clueless, Ed stood a few feet inward from Roy's closed office door and said, "You wanted to see me?" _Square one seemed the best place to start._

Roy took a preparing inhale. _Yes, he was supposed to be the colonel at work. _He still had his job to do and his reputation to uphold. Ed was still his subordinate and they would need to walk the fine line they had crafted for themselves, and be professional in the office and keep their personal lives respective of those professional boundaries. He was now only the colonel, the colonel who knew none of what was going on, and was acting on behalf of the military.

"Your absences." Roy opened things black and white. Once the topic was disclosed, Ed sagged his shoulders downward and groaned. He relaxed once he knew what this was all about, and approached Roy's desk comfortably. "What's going on Ed?"

"A lot of this and that," Ed said, slipping his hands into his pockets. "I'll make sure I am here more." Ed averted his eyes to the side and fell silent. Ed was offering a compromise, future obedience in exchange for his transgressions being ignored. This was Ed's most loved exchange, and right or wrong, it was the one Roy accepted the most.

Roy considered agreeing thoughtfully. In the past Ed pushed the limit of this exchange. He would rack up infractions until Roy was nearly buzzing with fury, and then plead obedience and stick to his word. On all accounts their current level of absenteeism was nowhere near the level of peril that traditionally forced Ed into submission, and Roy didn't think Ed meant to keep his end of the bargain just yet.

Roy sat up slowly, and his office chair groaned in protest. "Come here," Roy said.

Without taking his eyes from the side of the room, Ed took one step forward. The move was immediate obedience, a soldier following directives, but Ed's expression tightened and he looked like a pouting child.

Roy smiled. He found Ed's stiff shoulders and tiny found cute. "No," Roy said, sliding his chair to the side of his desk. "Come here."

Ed was a statue for a few seconds, and then Ed moved only his eyes and locked his gaze to Roy's with cautious regard. He took his hands from his pockets and skirted the desk slowly. _The side of Roy's desk and everything behind it was no-man's-land to the twelve-year-old little boy who was scared to stand in front of it._

"Give me your hand," Roy said. Ed offered his right hand. "Your left."

Ed switched hands. "Why?" Ed asked, looking uncertain.

Roy ignored this. "Take off your glove."

Ed grunted a small uncomfortable sound of protest, but obeyed. Quickly the automail hand plucked at each gloved finger of Ed's left, and Ed yanked the mitt off before extending it. Ed's bare hand was slender and very human in comparison to the stiff and constructed appearance of the gloves. For a moment Roy let Ed stand motionless, palm hanging awkwardly, before reaching for Ed's hand the way a knight might take that of a queen.

The action was exaggerated in slowness, and deliberately tender. Carefully Roy grasped Ed's flesh wrist with just a few fingers, letting the rest drum downward into a dainty grip. Ed was absolutely baffled, and his expression was tensing up with a look of confused disgust. Something very close to, _get the hell off my hand, _before Roy tightened his hold fiercely with nonnegotiable strength, and Ed startled a fast, "What are you doing?"

Roy ignored this and Ed was speechless with confusion, until Roy looked up, locking their gaze, and began leaning forward. Then the action became recognizable. Roy was leaning to the top of Ed's palm to kiss it, and Ed's eyes widened with shock.

Roy's stare was powerful, direct, and steadfast, uninhibited by the movement of his body. He bent down slowly, and ever so gently set his lips to the soft skin of Ed's hand for a chaise kiss. The moment they connected Ed blushed darkly, and bristled like a cat coming to water.

Roy held tight, preparing for Ed to pull away, but Ed didn't move. His hand remained limp, his body tight with embarrassed confusion.

After the short kiss, Roy corrected himself and sat back up, gaze still locked with Ed. The movement was seamless, and just as smoothly, Roy then lifted his right hand and harshly slapped the top of Ed's palm the way Amestrian grade school children were reprimanded.

Ed jerked with surprise, and ripped his hand away. He grabbed it protectively with his automail, as if it'd been stabbed, and back peddled huffing deep flustered breaths.

Roy had expected Ed to yell out with argument, but instead Ed looked so overcome he was speechless, and in a dry, but reasonable tone, Roy said, "Come to work when scheduled, and work your shift please."

Ed sputtered a sound of outrage, but still didn't seem capable of speech. His face was on fire, be it from embarrassment, or arousal, or both, Roy couldn't tell. Politely Roy gave Ed a moment of mute breath-stammering to see if there would be any explosion, before moving on.

"Now," Roy said, returning to a familiar office tone. "That is all I have to say about your absences." Ed swallowed heavily. "We're rescheduled for tonight, yes?" Ed looked flabbergasted with the topic change. "Ed?" Gaze still locked Roy tipped his head downward in a teasing fashion, and asked, "You all right?"

"Y—yeah," Ed managed, before swallowing quickly. "I s—said I'd freaking come to work more." Ed sounded guilty and defensive. He stuffed his hands deep into his pockets to protect them. "What the hell," Ed said angrily.

"I thought we rescheduled for tonight yesterday, but I wanted to confirm." Roy was determined not to get pulled into any other topic than the one he wanted to discuss.

"Yeah we did," Ed said, tone just as agitated.

"So tonight it is, right?"

Ed shifted uncomfortably and broke eye contact. "Well…" Ed's gaze strayed to the window where the sky was gray and the weather looked as if might turn foul. "Well the weather tonight…" Ed trailed off, before muttering. "Another night might be better."

_Are you kidding, _Roy thought. He could see Ed thinking about the abuse on his body and how he would hide it, and frankly, he didn't give a shit about any of this. How long was he expected to inconvenience himself for Ed's capricious idiocy?

"Ed, I'm not going to keep rescheduling."

"Okay, what time," Ed said angrily.

"Do you not want to do it tonight?" Roy asked, irritated but aware of Ed's hesitation. Talk of their date had Ed stressed, and that wasn't the emotion Roy was hoping to invoke.

"I said what time, didn't I?" Ed said quickly. "I'll tell you what I do and don't want." Ed turned away blushing. "I'll see you at seven." Ed spun around and left for the door. "That better work for you." Ed slammed it behind him.

Roy smiled. _Yes, that worked fine._ He was leaving early again. He packed up his things at quarter to four and snuck into the hall. On his desk he left a bright stickie note for Hawkeye.

_Date tonight. It's worth it._

* * *

Thank you everyone! No naughty stuff in this chapter I know. : )

Please leave a comment, any thought is appreciated! You guys would laugh if you knew how frequently I logged in to see what you've said after posting. _Send me some love!_

As a treat, reviewers are welcome to shrimp cocktail! A nice transition for our next chapter.

Chapter 7: _Dinner For Tw_o, almost 30 tasty pages of fun, will be up next Friday 08/02/13. Hope to see you there!


	7. Dinner for Two

This chapter is rated MA for Mature Sexual Content, Graphic Scenes, and Yaoi Material  
Reader discretion advised

* * *

Foolish For You  
Chapter Seven  
_Dinner for Two_

- mirage -

Roy never fooled himself into thinking he could seduce Ed through his stomach. Although he was proud of his menu, he didn't think a little seafood was going to distract Ed or sharpen his libido so powerfully he would be able to manipulate the boy. He also didn't think the thrill of his house, the intimate one-on-one attention he was going to give Ed, or himself, which he was going to dress like a gift, could completely stop Ed's alchemy-filled brain from working, and turn him into an obedient lust driven fool. They key to seducing Ed would be to ambush him. To ambush, with every resource which could not independently overpower him. Roy thought of his dinner as an assault. He was going to lure Ed into his home, care for him, feed him, and then conquer him. Ed would be defenseless in an entirely new arena, and weaponless to his many weapons.

At five Roy showered, because he was not seducing anyone without a shower. He had accepted this would disrupt his cooking and the time he'd have to prepare himself, and considered it unavoidable. Wearing sleek black slacks and a white dress shirt, he left his bedroom trailing the scent of cologne with it approaching six. He had just enough time to put the white wine on ice, and begin the white sauce and shrimp. With the fresh bread sliced, and a small garden salad ready, Roy felt confident Ed's natural tendency toward the farm country would still feel apt and comfortable with his meal.

At ten to seven the phone began ringing and Roy was licking sauce off his finger when he left the kitchen for the desk in his living room to answer. Everything was more or less ready, and he lifted the receiver and paused. Outside, Ed was standing in the middle of his approaching walkway looking at his front door. Roy dropped the receiver and disconnected the call. Ed was his one and only focus for this night. Cautiously neared the window cautiously to observe the boy.

Ed was wearing his black leather pants below a fitted, untucked, black dress shirt, with something red underneath. The lip of it was just visible, and the traditional color scale was comedy for Roy. Somehow, as Ed aged and changed patterns and cuts, the colors, like the infamous belt Roy could see from the window, never moved. Roy would put money on the claim Ed had worn that same belt since he was twelve.

Staring up at the house, as if studying a puzzle Ed couldn't decide he liked, the boy's golden eyes were bright contemplating candle flames. They burned with intensity, as if someone had thrown the shudders back on Ed's cranking mind, and this was the window to the vulnerable tissue inside. _Ed's tender side, Ed's honest side._ The wealth of the boy who lived discretely in the barracks with Alphonse, coming out only when safe, and at all other times, burrowing someplace deep.

Roy went to his front door and opened it with a smile. Ed looked startled, but instantly became at ease and approached.

"Hey," Ed said happily, trotting in. "Am I late?" Ed had brought a black book bag, and he paused in the foyer and dropped it to the right of the front door.

"No."

Ed inhaled the smell of the cooking food looking hungry. "Smells good," Ed said grinning widely while looking around.

The foyer was small, stairs directly before you, with a room to your right and left. The right was the dark green living room of heavy brown leather furniture. Roy was not interested in military furnishing where dozens of other colonels might have the same couch, table, or entire household of furniture he did. He liked fine leather from Amestris's Northern communities, and had ordered piece by piece. Surrounding the room's strong brick fireplace, he 'd set a fine leather couch and armchair about a slender coffee table. As a long rectangular room, the living room far corner held the doorway to the kitchen, with a short row of lined cheery bookshelves and thin writing desk more for show than anything else. Roy's home office looked chaotically like his work office, and on the left side of his house, the doors in and out were always shut. Anything inside it was confidential or classified, so locking doors and drawers were necessary.

Ed's eyes darted to the right and left quickly, taking in the space and available rooms tactically, the way soldiers did. "This is some place," Ed said, quickly stepping on either heel of his boots and slipping out. Ed lost a familiar inch in height, and took no notice. He went a few steps into the living room and then paused politely.

Ed's gaze lingered on the living room for a given Roy the secrets of Feng Shui. She made it wonderfully easy to understand by explaining always to put the tall things in the back, and the round things to the right. Using this shred of female advise, and his own design, Roy knew his place was strong in all the ways which would otherwise reveal he was unmarried, and respectable in all the ways which implied he should be. Ed looked not only impressed, but pleasantly approving.

"Please, make yourself at home," Roy said kindly.

"You cooking?" Ed asked, sounding excited by the idea.

"Yes."

"Really, what?"

"Be patient, you'll see." Roy returned to the kitchen and Ed followed slowly, curious with his surroundings. Roy went to the sauce on his stove and gave it a quick chef's taste. "Did you find me okay?"

Ed remained in the living room, and he called a loud, "Yeah!" Roy stirred the sauce and used the spoon to knock around the shrimp. "Took longer than I thought to walk here though." Ed sounded distracted, and Roy stepped back into the kitchen doorway.

Ed was at the fireplace mantle curiously examining everything with his eyes and hands. The clock, wooden hand-carved bear, and even the box of matches. With interest Ed picked up one at a time, scanning and touching thoroughly . "So I ran part of the way," Ed said, leaving the mantel for the desk.

Running part of the way sounded ridiculous. "No you didn't." Roy countered.

Ed laughed. "You're right, I didn't." Ed skirted Roy's writing desk and stood alongside the chair to examine the paperwork. None of it was classified, and most of it was boring. Inquisitively Ed ran his hand across the small pile of documents. "I'd be an idiot to literally run to your house." Ed lifted the bottom corner of a few sheets, eyes reading each page in seconds. He found nothing of note, and moved to Roy's bookshelf.

Roy was fascinated with Ed's curiosity. It came with instinctive naturalness, something almost habitual for Ed when entering a new place. This innocence made complaint petty and something otherwise obnoxious, almost precious.

Reading the book spines Ed's head was cocked to the side, and he dragged his hand along the shelve whispering the titles below his breath.

"This is quite a collection Roy!" Ed called, depleting bookshelves at a frightening rate. Ed's reading skill was intimidating, and he was dropping down the shelves at a speed that seemed almost unmanageable for someone reading each title. "You have some really nice books!"

Roy watched until Ed was bending down to read the fourth shelf. Then he said, "You have a really nice butt." Ed snapped upright with embarrassment and blushed. Roy ignored this and gestured to the shelf. "Anything in particular you like?"

"Ah, I…" Ed trailed off and cleared his throat. "Sorry I—Alphonse says I am nosy but, and I am not—not trying to pry."

"Are you hungry?" Roy asked.

Ed looked visibly grateful he was being given candid leeway with the social awkwardness neither of them could ignore. "Starving," Ed confessed happily.

"Good," Roy said. "Let's eat then."

Ed entered the kitchen with continued excitement and upon his first look at the small room of black cabinets, white granite counter tops, and the white backsplash, gave an appreciative, "Wow."

"Not quite the same as porcelain chickens and fruit bowls, huh," Roy said, proudly.

"I'll say," Ed said, looking around. "Get a little red in here and it would be perfect." Ed went to Roy's side and looked into the sauce pot. "Can I help? Should I do something?" Ed asked, glancing at the soiled bowls of ingredients and mixing utensils. The sauce on the stove was bubbling, and all about the kitchen was signs of food preparation. With something that looked trained Ed moved a few dirty dishes towards the side of the sink, before reaching to the faucet nozzle with a, "What's this?" Gooseneck in design, the tip of the facet was fat, and made to detach for easier use. When Ed touched it, it dislodged, and he grabbed it quickly before it could fall. "Shit, I broke the sink," Ed said, trying to jam it back in. "I'll fix it with alchemy."

Roy reached out and snatched Ed's arm with Ed beginning to clap. "No," Roy said, breaking into a laugh. "It's made to detach that way, it's…just, put it in gently." Roy returned to the stove, and served two dishes with Ed correcting the faucet. "It's a new design and it's not widely available," Roy explained. He turned back to Ed and offered a dish.

Ed was rubbing his hands down his thighs looking awkward, but mustered a quick smile and said, "It's an…awesome sink." Roy broke a laugh, and handed Ed his dish. Ed looked at the pasta and shrimp sauce. "Is that shrimp?" Ed asked.

"Why?" Roy said, laugher stopping dead. "Are you allergic?" _Dammit, should have checked!_

"No, I just haven't had it a lot," Ed said, honestly, before quickly adding, "I mean," as if there was something about his answer he didn't like. "I mean, I didn't have it a lot when I was younger, I've ordered it a few times in travel." Ed was satisfied with this for only a second, and then added, "I mean, not that we were poor when I was younger. I mean, we lived in the country but, and, we just weren't close to the coast so seafood wasn't really that available." Roy kept silent and watched Ed's mouth kamikaze. "Resembool didn't really import that kinda stuff, it wasn't a finance thing, so, I was just asking, just…checking if it was shrimp."

Gracefully Roy indicated the doorway to his dinning room with the sauce spoon and kindly said, "Go sit down." Putting Ed somewhere seemed the safest thing to do. Left to his own mind Roy didn't really know what Ed was going to do, but it seemed unwise. "Are you always this manic when nervous?"

Ed gave Roy an irritated look and left to the dinning room.

Roy served his own dish and joined Ed at the table. Without any complication Ed had assumed a seat and set his dish in one of the two place settings. When Roy sat Ed was smirking, and the automail hand swung a lazy pointing finger to the wine bottle.

"In the habit of serving minors alcohol, pious colonel?" Ed teased.

Roy enjoyed a short laugh. He went to answer, _as if we've never been drunk before, _before quickly changing his mind and responding with, "That's for me. I have some white grape juice for you."

The smile dropped off Ed's face so fast, Roy almost regretted his joke. "You loutish bastard," Ed said angrily. "Not old enough to drink, but old enough to f…" Ed cut himself off, overcome with shock at his own admission, and dropped his gaze with clumsy embarrassment. Muttering a barely audible, "freaking prick," Ed realized his place setting, and wine glass, were identical to Roy's, and he looked up quickly.

Roy was smirking playfully. _He knew what Ed was going to say, and Ed knew he knew._

Ed grabbed the dainty stem of his glass and stamped it forward like a chess piece. "Pour." Roy began uncorking the wine biting his tongue. "Stop smiling," Ed demanded, breaking a quick one of his own. He ran the automail over his face, and all tension collapsed after a small breath-filled laugh.

"You look nice," Roy said kindly.

"Thanks."

"You smell nice too."

"Thanks," Ed said, growing an appreciative smile. He watched his glass fill with wine and then took a long sip while Roy filled his own.

"I know it's customary to serve a salad first, but I didn't want the sauce to cool or over cook," Roy said. Ed picked up his fork and stabbed it deep into his dish as if he were starving. Feeling very certain Ed did not mind Roy asked, "Do you mind?"

Ed lifted a fork full of pasta and paused. Choking a laugh, as if the idea was ridiculous, Ed said, "You aren't going to impress me with rabbit food," and devoured his fork full. Chewing Ed said, "Honestly, I was," before stopping to look down at his plate with surprised appreciation for the taste. Ed gave an approving nod before continuing. "I mean, I was honestly expecting you to serve me a stake."

Roy found this humorous. "I suppose the salad won't be missed then."

Ed added another fork full to his mouth. "Did you design this place?"

"Yes and no. The military furnishes the interior similar to the way it does the dorms. I just have more say." Roy emptied his glass of wine. Compared to dry wine it was liquid candy.

Ed grunted, eyeing the molding about the dining room ceiling before the chandelier. He swallowed heavily. "This is pretty extravagant, even for a colonel."

"The house is a shell. This is my personal taste, so in that respect I did design it."

Ed turned his fork into a bee's hive of spaghetti and popped it into his mouth. "I am not trying to insult your taste," Ed said. Roy didn't feel insulted. "I just can't believe the military let you use our budget for this." Ed indicated the molding by lifting his fork and giving it a small upward jab. "You could have been stationed in a dorm like me; a home away from home doesn't need to be a palace."

"Do you know how long I've been in Central?" Roy asked, baffled with Ed's perspective. _Home away from home, he'd been here for years!_ Ed did know how long he had been in Central, and Roy tried to imagine what type of house Ed would design if the military only supplied the building. "Function over fashion, huh," Roy said, watching Ed eat. Ed seemed to be enjoying his spaghetti and kept his mouth full. "Don't you think that's rather dull?" Ed though about this while chewing like a cow. "Rather unimaginative of you?"

"I prefer to think of myself as a minimalist."

Roy laughed. "In that case, I'll see you never become Fuher." Ed smiled. "I'll be living out of a shoebox somewhere."

Ed dropped his gaze to his dish and poked at his spaghetti. "Yes, ha ha," Ed teased, falling silent. Ed slowly nudged a shrimp from the left side of his dish to the right. "Listen," Ed said, giving a small uncomfortable shift. "I've wanted to talk to you about something." Ed's voice became serious, and Roy imitated. Quickly something of procrastinating worry took Ed's expression. "I don't want you to jerk me around with it," Ed said firmly, lifting his gaze. "I want you to…help me," Ed said carefully. Roy reached to the wine. "…More." Ed closed his eyes and gave a heavy self disappointed sigh, as if he had rehearsed what he wanted to say and couldn't believe he was blundering so badly. "I want you to help me…more…with work," Ed said.

Ed lifted his wine glass and emptied it. It went down easy, and with a satisfied drop of his hand, Ed returned the glass to the table and resumed conversation. "You make it hard for me to talk to you," Ed said quickly. "Sometimes it's hard to…" Roy glanced at Ed's empty cup and debated whether he should refill it.

He did.

"Sometimes it's hard for me to manage what I need to say, because you give me the impression that you're expecting my words to be stupid," Ed said.

"You mean now? This year?" Roy asked. He wasn't going to deny Ed's description was accurate for a few years ago. When Ed was thirteen and fourteen a lot of what the boy said was sandwiched with…well…stupidity.

"Yeah, this year," Ed said, with a bit of confusion. "I sometimes feel like you won't care, or you don't think what I find important is important. When I am reporting to you I feel…" Ed paused, and it was not the pause of someone trying to identify their emotion, or choose their word, it was the pause of someone disappointed with their own accuracy. "…abandoned," Ed said. "I feel abandoned."

"Ed, I don't understand." This summarized everything.

Ed silenced with a look of troubled bewilderment, before offering a small uncomfortable shrug. Softly he muttered, "What don't you understand?"

"I don't understand why you think I am responding to you this way. Or, what I am doing that's giving you that impression." Roy set his fork down. "What have I ever done to suggest any of this?"

"We're always doing different things."

"We have different agendas, and also, different jobs," Roy said calmly. "I don't think what you say is stupid most of the time." Roy flashed a teasing smile so Ed would recognize the joke, and Ed brightened.

"But sometimes you just look at me when I am talking. You just stare at me."

Roy gave another shrug and returned to his dish. _He didn't know what to say about that. _"I have to assume I am thinking about what you're saying when I am looking at you." He continued eating. "Do you want my honest opinion?" he asked, locking his gaze with Ed's. Ed didn't answer and seemed curious, but also a bit afraid. "I think you've been able to rely on others to start conversation, and by that, I mean personal conversation, and so you struggle to do so on your own, and you might not recognize that struggle as being entirely on your end." Ed's face darkened with insult, and Roy knew what he said sounded very much like: _This is your fault_, but he also thought much of that was true. "I only know what you tell me, and how you tell it to me, and so does everyone else."

"I think I communicate fine," Ed snapped. "People understand me fine."

"Alphonse, does not count." Ed bristled with offense. "Your communication with him is on a much deeper level. He anticipates half of what you're saying before you do so. It's not like that for others. Ed," Roy leaned forward making things intimate, and lowering his voice said, "Give me time to get to know you." Ed averted his gaze thoughtfully, but this statement caused him to relax. "I am glad you told me this. I will make an effort to be more aware of what I am doing, but to be frank, I am silent sometimes because I do not want to make assumptions. I am waiting for you to tell me what I need to know so I don't have to make assumptions. Every assumption is a possible error on my end, and that's unfair to us both. I need a full report, and an accurate report, from you, and while you're giving it, I am quiet." Ed was satisfied with this answer. "Also, sometimes I just have to think of something to say," Roy said, lightening the mood. "You're a real wise ass, and it's hard to come up with office appropriate puns on the spot."

Ed chuckled, and indicated his dish with a small point of his automail finger. "This is very good," Ed said happily.

"You haven't eaten any of the shrimp yet."

"Neither have you."

Roy looked down at his dish. He had lazily been eating pasta and hadn't noticed.

"Do you eat them last?" Ed asked. Roy looked up and studied Ed's dish. With impeccable stealth and talent Ed had kept alert to mimic Roy's eating without appearing to do so. Suddenly it was clear to Roy Ed was trying to guarantee a strong impression and aptitude through imitation. Briefly, Roy worried he should have chosen something even more casual for dinner, but really after this, what was there? _Couldn't really start serving peanut butter and jelly sandwiches now could we?_

"No," Roy said at last. "No you don't." He stabbed a shrimp with his fork, reached across the table, and brought it to Ed's mouth. "You eat them, whenever you want them," he said, lowering his voice to a sensual tone. Ed didn't move when the shrimp was offered to him, and with eyes cautiously locked on Roy's, Ed opened his mouth just enough to let the shrimp inside. "Just like that," Roy said, breaking a wide smile as he took his fork away.

"Um…" Ed bit down on the shrimp. "Thank you." Ed gave a second chew before looking back to his dish with renewed interest. Ed quickly stabbed two shrimp, and they disappeared into his mouth.

"Good, right?" Roy asked, eating one himself.

Ed nodded, and demolished his shrimp in seconds. "How long did it take to make all this?" Ed asked, again emptying his wine glass.

"An hour," Roy said, watching Ed refill his cup. "Perhaps you should…" he trailed off. _What did you say? Perhaps you should stop drinking the wine I am serving? I am now thinking it was a mistake? _

Ed reached across the table and grabbed Roy's hand. "Thanks," Ed said softly. Ed flashed a quick fleeting smile. "For dinner, okay?"

Roy smiled. "If I thought it were bearable for you, I would have fed you." Ed laughed and took his hand back. "Hand fed," Roy said. Ed lifted his third glass and emptied it.

Roy cursed mentally. He should have bought a stronger wine. _A dry wine!_ A bitter, horrible, dry wine even he hated!

"Alphonse was teasing me the entire time before I left," Ed said, laughing out his own words. Roy opened the bread dish, and Ed was all over it. "He's like—well he has this innocent face, and he uses it." Ed laughed. Roy knew exactly what Ed was saying after his spying, and he laughed as well. "Sometimes I can't believe the stuff he says," Ed laughed a bit harder. "He can be such a perv."

"He's..." Roy began speaking but Ed's last statement caused him to interrupt himself with a stronger laugh. _Yes, Alphonse apparently could be a little perv._ "He's dating that girl, right?"

"Huh?" Ed looked confused.

"In copying, or printing, some girl at Command?"

Ed shrugged. "I didn't think it was that serious," Ed said, sounding thoughtful. "He didn't say it was." For a moment Ed was silent, looking studiously lost in thought before becoming annoyed. "She is obnoxious," Ed confessed, meeting Roy's gaze and wincing with distaste.

"I am sure she's not too bad," Roy said. _What did he know, he'd never met her._

"She has this high catty voice, like, _na-na-na-na-na._" Ed impersonated Alphonse's mystery girl by raising his voice to an obnoxious squeak, and Roy laughed. "I want to ask him what he sees in her, but what a hypocrite the question makes me," Ed said, falling in mood to something gloomy. "The question itself is negatively judgmental, suggesting there is nothing in her to see, and shouldn't that be how he feels about you?" Ed asked. "I can't see it because I like men, and he can't see it because he likes women. We're separated."

This word startled Roy. _Separated_, it was powerful, and its use on Ed's part was specific. _Another accurate word._ Roy felt the rareness of the moment come to him. This was the naked and bold confidence Ed had inside his apartment: courageous honesty. _Ed was confiding in him_.

"What do I know as a homo anyway, right?" Ed asked, teasing weakly. He rolled his shoulders, as if wanting to shake the topic off.

"Probably as much as the next homo," Roy said kindly. "Which is more than a straight man on gay topics, and less than a straight man on straight topics." Roy gave Ed a smile, and Ed appreciated it. "It doesn't matter what the sexuality when you cut to the bone Ed. Everyone is looking for a partner, and from that partner, everyone desires the same thing."

Ed cocked a doubtful smile, and with absolute skepticism, asked, "And what's that?"

"Nonjudgmental acceptance and affection."

The honesty of Roy's statement humiliated Ed, and the automail moved to Ed's sinuses and pinched. "Is that what you're hoping to find in me?" Ed asked, frightened by his perceived impossibility someone as strong as Roy Mustang, was seeking this from anyone, and therefore, by default, needed nothing from him. "You want me not to judge you?" Ed asked, dropping the hand back to the table, looking exhausted with probing questions he'd combed over again and again. _What does he see in me, and what do I have to offer._

"I would appreciate it if you didn't," Roy said casually. Ed's weakness was written straight across his face. He didn't feel a judge, he only felt judged. "I am not judging you," Roy said. Ed gave a small, unappeased grunt. There was something bitter inside it, something hinting at injustice and Roy took it up. It wasn't ideal dinner conversation, but he did so anyway. "Wherever we are, as we see each other personally, we are two equals," Roy said, with an educational tone. "That means what it means Ed."

"It's a farce," Ed said, dryly. He reached to the wine and refilled his cup. Roy watched this happen certain he could already hear a buzz in Ed's speech pattern. Ed took a sip and set his cup down. "It's a farce because the equation is impossible." Ed lifted a piece of bread, ripped a tiny shred off, and ate it. "Come on," Ed said, becoming agitated. "You know it," he accused. "I don't want to hear this equal crap, because there is nothing equal about nature without duplicate reproduction."

"That's correct," Roy said. Suddenly, it was very easy for him to understand why Ed seemed to feel insecure at times. "And we don't have duplicate reproduction, do we."

"Without it, equality, true equality, does not exist. What you're trying to say is that when we are together personally…" Ed paused for no reason Roy could see, and he was certain Ed was drunk. As if on some metal cue, Ed emptied his glass, and then slid it forward in silent request Roy fill it. Somehow, while carefully juggling the details of their night, Ed either didn't care, or somehow forgot, you could become drunk on wine. Just because it didn't taste like the cheap and bitter brown liquids soldiers were drinking, did not make it any less potent.

Roy placed his hand on the wine bottle to appease Ed's request, but didn't lift it. Ed resumed talking as if the pause hadn't happened. "What you're trying to say is that when we are together personally, we magically transform to a harmonized balance of scientific mathematics, of logical arrangement, quality, value, degree, the list goes on, but each is as impractically impossible as the next. Value, rank, it's all impossible, is everyone pretending things are like this?" Ed twisted his expression with repugnance. "Is that the way things go?"

"Yes," Roy said softly. "That is the way things go." Ed looked sick with betrayal, and leaned back in his chair with defeat. "Not because it is a lie," Roy said, "But because two people can harmonize their efforts to create a balance that becomes deliberate human equality."

Ed's eyes narrowed with skepticism, but inside the gaze was desperate. "Do you believe that?"

Roy nodded. "I do. If you communicate honestly, and you compromise, and you prioritize, than I believe it, and I believe it is the equation of every truly successful relationship there is."

Ed's expression didn't abandon his criticism, but he was immensely intrigued by the contradiction of Roy Mustang placing stock in something that sounded scientifically silly. "You want to harmonize with me?" Ed asked, slurring the z sound.

Roy nodded. "But I am not pouring you anymore wine." Ed looked at the bottle. "You're drunk."

In flat seriousness Ed asked, "How many bottles have I had?"

"Glasses," Roy corrected, wondering how extensive Ed's drinking was allowed to get under Havoc's reign.

"Usually I feel sick if I get drunk," Ed said, arguing. "I think I just have a buzz." Ed poked his automail index down on the table. "If you want to harmonize, we're going to need some paper, that's a long long equation. I can't do it all in my head. If you can, that's the first harmony we can start with." Ed pointed at Roy with complete seriousness. "You can write."

"Ed," Roy said, beginning a wide smile. "You're a delightful dinner guest."

"I know."

Roy laughed. "Putting aside the idea we actually write out our relationship in a string of equations, would you like another dish?" Ed shook his head. "Okay, I am going to make us some coffee. Why don't you make yourself comfortable in the living room. I'll start a fire."

Ed gave a small solute and left while Roy cleared the table. Roy was aware he'd set Ed free in the living room again, and that this time, under the alcohol, Ed might have more or less restraint. He was clueless to Ed's behavior as a drunk. He'd never thought to ask Havoc for a report, so tried to hurry. He only needed the messy items in the sink, and the perishables in the refrigerator. With the coffee brewing, and the sink water running, he checked on Ed, and found him harmlessly sneaking into belongings with the curiosity of a new kitten.

Teasing from the doorway, Roy said, "If anything is missing after you leave…"

Ed snorted a laugh from where he stood at the mantle, staring into the empty box of matches. "You're out of matches Roy," Ed said, looking over in time to watch Roy's smile widen. "You're out." Ed turned the box upside down and gave it a demonstrating shake. This was cute, and cuter still when the light bulb visibly went off in Ed's head, and he rolled his eyes suddenly. "Oh yes, ha ha, what does the Flame Alchemist need of matches." Ed put the box back on the mantle. "Better question is, why doesn't the Flame Alchemist throw out the useless matches box."

Roy considered Ed's tone; it was becoming unusually happy and energetic. He walked to the boy and lifted his hand to start the fire, but Ed grabbed it. Not to stop the action, but for balance. "You're house is putting me on edge," Ed said, quickly withdrawing his hand. Roy could see the alcohol working in Ed's young body. Ed's thoughts were becoming scattered, and Ed's verbal filters were further deteriorating. Roy sparked the waiting logs into a roaring fire, and Ed stepped back with the sudden flames. "I feel like I've been laid out and served up since I've walked in."

"Elric and shrimp?" Roy teased,

"Don't test me Roy," Ed said, staring into the fire with the firelight dancing over his features and making his hair glow. "A steak would have been nice, but the seafood was unexpected, and also tasty." Ed turned to Roy and smiled. "I liked the shrimp," Ed said honestly, before lifting his gaze to Roy's hair and the bit of gel Roy had in his roots. "And…your hair the way it is." Ed reached to Roy's collar and plucked at it. "And your clothes." Ed was beginning to look sleepy, and his breath smelled of wine. "So now we're spiraling to it," Ed said softly. "The main objective. We're going to sleep together." Ed shrugged casually, as if this were nothing. As if he'd done it a thousand times, and the car was not the horrible first, and the couch the painful second. "I appreciated the invite and the food, but I feel like I am just carrying out the motions. Doing what's expected of me. Moving along so we get to the core of it all."

"Careful Ed, unlike a checklist I reserve the right to a bit of spontaneity. Unless you're talking about having sex now."

"No," Ed said, "I mean yes, but no." Ed shook his head. "I mean, isn't it a bit like everything has been constructed so that the main outcome is us having sex, implicating that everything else is therefore irrelevant, the fat to this itinerary?"

"I don't think anyone has ever referred to one of my dates as an itinerary," Roy said, humored. With Ed tipsy, he took a bit more liberty with his teasing and said, "With neither of us overweight, we probably don't have much to worry about. Sleeping with one another has to be mutually consensual and desired. It's not a requirement of any engagement you have with me Ed."

Ed chuckled. "Consensual," Ed teased. "You don't hear me complaining."

"I was planning on sleeping with you tonight, but we don't have to."

"You—you said you were going to seduce me. I know what that means Roy," Ed said. "To persuade to do some—something inadvisable, entice into sexual activity." Ed recited the definition, and Roy laughed. "What?" Ed asked defensively. "You're not going back on your word now. I expect to be enticed into sexual activity."

Roy stepped up to Ed and took him in a deep kiss. _There was only so much unpredictably adorable Fullmetal Roy could take._ He kissed deeply. He let Ed feel his tongue, and pressed so Ed's lips would tingle from the pressure. When he disengaged, Ed moaned, and the sound of that deep purring rumble up the back of Ed's throat made Roy pause. _Ed had not moaned with pleasure any of the previous times they'd been together._ The sound was new.

"You moaned," Roy said, with surprise.

Ed's eyes were partly closed, and he slurred a, "I what?" Ed gave his lips a lick. "Did you stop because I taste bad?" Ed grimaced with the thought. "I just ate. I could have brushed my teeth."

Roy moved to his couch. He took the throw blanket from the arm of it, and laid it out before the fire. It this was how things were going to be with a little wine, next time he'd pour Ed Jack Daniels and demand the boy drink it.

Roy sat down on the blanket and extended his hand to Ed who was standing and watching him. "Come here," he said kindly. "You taste delicious." Ed obliged, and dropped to sit at Roy's side a bit clumsily. "You're such a little tease."

Immediately a wide smile shot across Ed's face, and with excitement he said, "Here comes my enticement into sexual activity."

Roy slid his hand up Ed's thigh. He wasted no time; he went right for the bulge growing in Ed's pants, and Ed wasn't expecting it.

With the touch Ed's legs shuddered, and Ed tightened his body into a crunch. He didn't seem to know how to socially respond to suddenly being groped, and jerked with instinct. Roy felt Ed's erection pulse where it was trapped, but the rest of Ed looked to be floundering, before he managed a sudden, "Wa—wait a minute, are you calling me short?"

Roy ignored this, and pressed Ed to lie on his back. Ed's drunken anticipation was more than excitement; it was the blossoming growth of lust that came from experiencing, and growing a desire for that experience. It created an addictive equivalent excitement within Roy. Ed was feeding a matured ego, and Roy roughly groped over Ed's pants. The strained expressions Ed made while enduring pleasure were amazing. Roy grabbed Ed's shirt and yanked violently, separating Ed's top buttons without spraying them.

Ed startled with the sudden aggression and sputtered an eager, but uncertain, "Colonel?" but Roy ignored this. He spread the top of Ed's dress shirt, shoved the undershirt upward to Ed's collar bone, and descended on Ed's chest.

Roy pressed his mouth to the patch of skin he revealed, and Ed's breath sped up so his rib cage was hopping. Intoxicated Ed was making incoherent noises, and Roy loved them. "You think I...look good, huh?" Ed asked, chuckling a smug cocky sound. Ed's ego was rising, and Roy laughed into Ed's chest.

"You've always been intriguing Ed," Roy whispered. He drew his tongue up the center of Ed's pectorals, and Ed strangled out an odd noise. "The fact we've done this to our relationship is cataclysmic when you consider our past."

"Cata-what?" Ed managed. Roy began yanking at Ed's belt. He ripped up the tongue, and fed it through the metal head. Ed was beside himself. Even though the action had already commenced Ed lifted his hips to make them more accessible and said, in an incredibly eager and hopeful tone, "You can take off my pants." Ed looked down to watch his body be undressed. There was something erotic about uncoupling a belt, and the metal head gave a small clink as Roy ripped it apart. It unwrapped from Ed's waist, exposing the button and fly to his pants, and Ed closed his eyes, and tightened his expression as if waiting for a blow to the gut. "Please let him do it," Ed whispered softly, just below his breath. Roy grabbed Ed's pants and unbuttoned them. "Please let him—please let him do it." Ed was talking to himself, and squirming with anticipation. Lifting his hips and arching his back ever so naturally, and Roy imaged this was the Fullmetal Alchemist late at night lying a bed across from his armored brother biting his bottom lip and waiting for it to pass.

Roy grabbed Ed's fly, and said, "I am going to make you feel good." He pulled Ed's zipper down slowly, and Ed opened his eyes in a wide frazzled stare. "Just guess what I am going to do." Ed was panting with anticipation and couldn't speak. "Make this feel so good." Roy opened Ed's pants and yanked them to Ed's knees in one forceful pull. The moment he had Ed's waist uncovered he grabbed Ed through his boxers, and Ed hissed with the intense pleasure this brought. Ed immediately lifted his legs so his knees were raised and the flesh color exposed between Ed's black upper and lower half was extreme. It made that bit of skin _naked, _and everything else _hidden._

Roy stroked Ed through his shorts, loving Ed's pleasure, and the thrill of dragging this out. Ed began frantically unbuttoning his shirt, panting as if he'd run for miles, and looking desperate to get out of his clothes. "Ed," Roy said softly, stopping Ed's hands. Ed lifted his gaze with a strangled bewildered expression of anguish. "I am going to put you in my mouth." Ed's face crippled with intensity, and through a jaw that locked, and teeth that grit, Ed groaned hard enough Roy thought, for a moment, that Ed might have just creamed his pants.

Without warning, Ed's automail shot up, grabbed Roy behind the neck, and jerked him down. Ed pressed their faces together, and Roy was stunned, but kissed back with dominating ferocity. Then he yanked away, laughing silently. Ed was hard as a rock in his hands, and he dragged Ed's boxers to his knees and leaned into Ed's lap. He paused; hovering over Ed's exposed erection and glanced up with a devilish grin. _What a horrible tease he was._ Ed looked as if he were having a stroke, and his eyes bulged with shock when Roy did this. _Ed understood what Roy was doing. Ed understood he was being toyed with. _

"I am going to suck," Roy said softly. Ed gripped the blankets on either side of him and tried to keep his withering dignified. Slowly, Roy opened his mouth. Without severing their gaze, and with Ed's nose swelling the deep red color of his cheeks, Roy succumbed to mercy, and gently took Ed's tip in his mouth.

Ed lost it with just this slight touch, and cried out. "Roy!"

Roy ignored Ed's outburst and gave Ed what he wanted at Ed's age. He pulled back and licked up Ed's underbelly causing Ed to strangle a brittle cry. Frantically Ed stuffed the side of his fist to his mouth, puffing breaths so hard he was casting spittle.

Roy leaned back. "Ed, take your hand out of your mouth." Ed's thighs were trembling as if with seizure, and with this command Ed whimpered softly. "I want to hear the noises you make, take your hand out," Roy said, keeping a tantalizingly slow hand job as he spoke. Ed gave his head a quick shake. "Do it, or I'll stop."

Ed brought his fist down like a mallet, slamming the floor at his side with a vicious, "You're an asshole!" Ed sneered, with no shred of malice. "I hate you!"

"No, I think you love me," Roy said, leaning back down. He didn't ask Ed if he'd had a blow job, or how many, so he had no idea if this was another first, or if this was just one of few. Either way, he gave Ed a winner, and bobbed and suckled with skill and talent that came from only having the same sexual organ, and loving it just as much as your entire gender. Ed couldn't handle Roy's slow teasing laps, and was forcing his heels into the floor and snorting air through his nose like a bull.

"Stop screwing around," Ed snarled, panting excessively. He reached down and seized Roy's head, and Roy was surprised. The cold automail felt dangerous to Roy's scalp, and when Ed pressed down, Roy obeyed. "Suck me, all the way in," Ed ordered, sweating heavily.

Roy obliged, following Ed's shoving lead, until Ed let his head tip back on his shoulders and groaned. Satisfied Roy singled out a finger and moved it to tease Ed from behind, but Ed lifted his hips the moment he felt this.

"Hey!" Ed was startled. He tried to pull his pelvis away, but he wouldn't take himself out of range, and Roy knew it. Roy kept Ed anchored via his penis, and didn't insert, but tickled, and this was all it took. Ed came in a toe curling orgasm to the sound of a deep throat-rattling groan. _It was beautiful._

Roy wanted to see what Ed could do, so he pulled back when he felt the ejaculation happening, and watched it. Ed ejaculated in four short, but powerful, squirts. The quantity was impressive, and Roy lifted an approving smile to Ed, but Ed was nearly unconscious.

Ed looked as if he'd just fought off a mountain lion. He was streaked with sweat, and struggling to regain his breath. Resting eyes closed, Ed cracked his gaze after a few lung cleansing heaves, but again quickly closed them under the rushing sensation of uncertainty. He was now awkwardly thrust into this foreign moment: _Ejaculation in front of a second party, who is not naked, and while in their house._

"It's okay," Roy said kindly. Ed's left hand was at his side half lifted from the blanket and shaking in need. Roy took it and held it firmly. Tenderly he stroked Ed's sweat drenched face and said, "You tasted even better than dinner." Ed looked relived. With a soft chuckle Ed closed his eyes and relaxed where he lay. For a moment Roy simply stroked Ed's bangs back before Ed neared full recovery. It started first with modesty, and Ed pulled his shirt together so the tails covered his genitals. "Are you okay?" Roy asked.

"Thirsty."

"I'll get you something." Roy stood to leave.

"No wine!" Ed said quickly.

Roy left to the kitchen. He retrieved a water pitcher from the refrigerator and used his other hand to flick a piece of shrimp upward like a coin and catch it in his mouth. He felt triumphant, and while retrieving a glass Ed trudged into the room looking sloppy, but pleased. _They were on the same page, and things were good._

Ed had abandoned his pants and wearing his untucked and unbuttoned dress shirt looked obscene. The automail helped exaggerate the nakedness, and Roy felt each flap of Ed's shirt tails beat at his libido until he heard a drum.

Ed came to the counter and took the waiting glass. He held it out expectantly, but Roy was more interested in confirming if Ed was wearing pants, and made to lift the bottom of Ed's shirt. "Hey, get off," Ed said, evasively stepping back. "Thanks, but I am not a swinging Chip-and-Dales. All the friendly BJs in the world aren't going to have me walking around on display for you. I want to keep things simple." Ed indicated the glass with a rude point before snatching some cooked shrimp from the waiting platter, and shoving them into his mouth "I am wearing shorts," Ed said, chewing with his mouth open. "Now pour." Roy filled Ed's cup, but the sight of three bobbing shrimp tails protruding from Ed's frowning mouth, kept Roy's inner furnace blazing. _He had been generous in the living room._ Everything he had done, he had done for Ed, and he expected his turn, and expected it next.

In an abrupt dash, Roy took to eating up the side of Ed's neck. This both startled and excited Ed. Roy felt the automail come crashing to his shoulder, fisting his shirt with a bit of alarm as Ed laughed.

"You can't keep your hands off me, can you!" Ed teased. Roy looped an arm about Ed and sat him on the counter. Ed shuddered with the quick dominating relocation of his body, and the metal grip tightened. "You want me bad." Ed snickered, and began something Roy was sure would be sarcastic before silencing when Roy pressing Ed's shirt to his collar bone, and exposed the right of Ed's torso.

Roy did this with appreciation for Ed's skin, the definition of his muscles, and even more so, for the scars. Sitting proudly, like a castle to a mountain top, Ed's small pea-sized nipple reigned over the flawless budge of Ed's pectoral, and Roy stared at it.

Ed was utterly confused with this, and glanced between Roy's stare and his own chest, before muttering, "What?" Without warning Roy descended on Ed's right nipple, and sucked. Ed jerked as if this were painful, and cried out, "What are you doing!"

Roy disengaged with a naughty smile. Separating just enough to speak, he said, "Show me your other one." Ed's left nipple was hidden under the fabric of Ed's shirt, and Ed stared at Roy, blushing and befuddled. "Ed," Roy said, firming his tone. "Show it to me."

Slowly, Ed tentatively lifted the other side of his dress shirt and held it up. The right nipple was closer to Ground-Zero of Ed's upper body, and the edge closest to the automail was sunk inward, as if the scarring of Ed's shoulder destroyed the inner constitution of his muscles. While the left nipple was healthy in color, and correctly faced front, the right was slightly off with its sinkhole base, and minor forty-five degree extension. Ed looked slightly uncomfortable exposing it for scrutiny, but didn't suffer. _When so much of you looked like…what it did…you couldn't start picking fights over one not-so-bad nipple._

Roy slid his left hand to Ed's right nipple, in a gentle and kind stroke of his hand, before pinching it.

"Ow!" Ed said, becoming angry. "What did you do that for?" Roy pinched again, harder, and Ed flinched. "Roy, what the hell is this? You're being a dick."

"Lie back on the counter," Roy said. Ed was becoming aroused with the nipple treatment, even if he didn't understand it.

"But your dishes and stuff."

Roy shoved Ed back roughly, and the dishes made room for Ed's body. There was the small bowl of flour used to dust the shrimp, Roy's favorite steel cooking spoon, and morning coffee mug. All made room, sliding haphazardly this way and that, before the metal napkin container fell to the floor and sent the napkins flapping into the room like doves.

Hungrily Roy moved his mouth between nipples, and Ed arched his back upward with appreciation. "Okay," Ed said, voice tense. "You can do this—suck on my—do this to my nipples." Ed gave a quick squeaking laugh, as if he found this new activity delightful. "You can suck on other stuff too if you want." Ed reached down and tried to get his boxers off with one hand. "And in case that's not explicit enough for you, by that I mean, feel free to suck my dick again."

Roy laughed into Ed's chest. He helped pull Ed's boxers down, and Ed kicked them off as soon as he was able, with a small arrogant snicker. The automail slid into Roy's hair, and the metal fingers were aggressive, slightly alarming, and curling to Roy's delicate scalp with massive strength. "This feels really good," Ed whispered. "All of it, feels really good."

Roy spoke, muffling his words into Ed's chest. "I am glad you like it."

"I've decided I don't care what the end result of our evening is," Ed said, quickly. "I don't care if it's the most cliché piece of crap ever done." Ed's metal fingers squeezed down the back of Roy's head and neck, and the danger of the sensation was adrenaline rousing. "I don't freaking care." Roy gave Ed's erection a few strokes before foundling Ed's balls. Immediately Ed moaned a quick, "Oh…that feels crazy awesome." Roy continued, and Ed shuddered. "Where'd you learn this stuff Roy?"

Roy lifted his head. "Experience." He returned to the nipple.

"Wow."

Roy moved his hand blindly to the cooked shrimp and brought a plump unfloured curl to Ed's ass. Softly he traced it down Ed's inner thigh before sliding it into the crevice of Ed's cheeks.

"What is that?" Ed asked, smiling. The shrimp was a sole tickling sensation, but Ed flinched with understanding it wasn't part of Roy when it touched him privately. "What is that?" Ed repeated, reaching down with excited curiosity. Roy lifted the shrimp into sight, and Ed's eyes bulged with immediate outrage. "What the heck are you doing!" Ed cried, snatching the shrimp from Roy's hand and throwing it violently into the kitchen. "I don't want food touching me! Are you crazy!" Ed's tone was strict and hostile. "No food! No food!—What the heck is wrong with you!" Ed reached to the platter of shrimp and slapped it to the floor. It fell with a crash and cooked shrimp scattered outward like bouncy-balls.

Roy broke out laughing. "I guess it would have just been too ironic," Roy said, shrugging helplessly. "A shrimp fucking a shrimp."

"You'll be less concerned with how ironic it is when I bust your teeth out!" Ed said, snatching Roy by the lapels and jerking him forward. "_Fucking shrimp comment_," Ed seethed, leveling his gaze. "Now say it," Ed demanded, bringing them nose to nose. Roy's laughter faded with sudden confusion. _Say what? _Then it became clear. Inside Ed's irritated glare was a distant, but clear, glowing light. "Say it, or we go no further. I am not a play toy."

Roy was silent, staring into Ed's eyes, contemplating his answer. He wasn't going to begin lying now, and he wasn't going to be pressured into something he didn't want. "Yes," he said, confidently. "My answer is yes."

"Exclusive?" Ed demanded, tightening his grip with hunger, while a look of worry bloomed in his face. _Am I really the one being selected?_

"Exclusive."

"Okay." Ed dropped Roy's shirt and shoved Roy back to again stand comfortably between Ed's legs. Ed propped himself up on his elbows. "Then we continue, but no more food." Ed lifted an angry hand and pointed it at Roy. "You're a sick one Roy." Roy broke back into laughter, and it was hearty, and fun-loving.

"I was just trying things out," Roy said innocently. "Honestly, I've never done anything with food. I just thought I'd give it a try. Let's be adventurous Ed."

"Adventure nothing," Ed said firmly. "I am not a guinea pig. Unless we discuss something, no trying things out, got that? You can fuck me, and you can suck my dick, that's it, and I'll do the same for you."

"Thank you," Roy said, smiling with absolutely zero intention on allowing fifty percent of that offer.

"Food is out."

Roy gestured to the baking flour that had dusted the side of Ed's forehead and hair. The flour bowl had spilled in no order, and speckled everything. "What about the flour?" he asked.

"What?" Ed asked, slapping at the parts of him Roy indicated. "That was accidental!" Ed cried. "That is accidental food, and that's not the same!" Ed narrowed his gaze angrily and threatened, "Touch me with food again, and I won't restrain myself now that you have the rules."

"So dangerous," Roy teased, grinning. Like a dog he gritted his teeth and gave his head a playful shake. "The dangerous Fullmetal Alchemist," he said, purring out his words, while climbing onto Ed as much as possible.

"That's—that's right," Ed said, beginning to blush. Ed looked confused, but excited with where things were going. "That's damn right."

"Just keep your hands out of your mouth," Roy said, reaching down and unzipping his fly. "I want to hear you call my name."

* * *

Roy turned on the light to his upstairs bathroom and stepped in. It was a small full bath, gray with white tile. "Use whatever you need," Roy said. "Just toss whatever linens you use inside the hamper when you're done."

Ed dropped his book bag to his feet and glanced around. There was flour up the side of his face, and splattered across his dress shirt. Roy looked as if he'd thrust his crotch into a bag of the white powder. "Do you have any conditioner?" Ed asked, beginning to unbutton his shirt.

"No, but everything else you need should be sitting around. Just do that snooping thing you do, and you'll be fine." Roy felt like a hypocrite as he threw out the joke, but Ed was oblivious to the wealth of privacy violation supplied by his own apartment peep-hole, and simply gave Roy a quick scolding glance. "I am going to go change, and get the bedroom ready."

Ed's hands paused, and he looked up from his shirt. The white of the flour made his golden eyes seem twice as large. "Ready?" Ed asked, sounding a bit blindsided. "For…I mean more?"

"No, for sleeping," Roy said, with a wide smile. "We have work tomorrow so it's time we call it." It was almost eleven, and Roy gave the bathroom doorway a friendly knock with his fist, and left with a teasing, "Time flies when you're having fun Ed."

With Ed in the bathroom Roy tidied up his bedroom. It was in well enough order, but he scooped up the bit of laundry on the floor, and cleared off the nightstands. His bedroom was modest, gray in color with a black sleigh bed, dresser, and two end tables. To warm it he had added a large floor plant, but otherwise, didn't desire additional dust collecting items.

As a good host Roy collected a few extra pillows, and an extra throw blanket. Fitting them to the white linens of his bed a loud boom of thunder cracked over Central. The storm was directly overhead, and seconds after the rain came, heavy and fierce. It was the kind of spring storm that might cause a few power outages in the residential districts if something was struck, but so close to the military buildings this zone had nothing to worry about. Alchemists had placed all power cables underground, so storms were rarely a disruption. Enjoying the comforting sound of raindrops on the roof and window panes, Roy changed into his pajamas and went to the window. Already the gutters were overflowing, and the street was shimmering with a thin river.

The rain was audio rehabilitation, and Roy opened his bedroom window half way, and closed the curtains. He enjoyed the spring air, but didn't want the water coming in.

Unsure how detailed Ed's bathing routine would be after the night's activities, and their brief shower experience; Roy completed an evening mental checklist but it seemed nothing was missing. Food was put away, doors were locked, and Ed entered the bedroom with Roy standing before his bed studying it critically with his hands on his hips.

Roy smiled with Ed's arrival and gestured warmly to his bedroom. "Make yourself at home. How was your shower?"

Ed gave a comfortable thumbs-up. "Nice bedroom," Ed said. "Great colors. Get a little red in here, and this place will be on the level." Ed approached drying his hair in a tee shirt and boxers, but a potent smell followed. Caught off guard Roy's expression flickered with sudden offense, and Ed cringed. "Yeah, sorry," Ed said, becoming hideously embarrassed. "It's for the metal, the scent fades, but it's…potent until it fades." Ed offered a quick awkward shrug. He felt foolishly bad-mannered imposing such a disagreeable smell on them, but options were limited. "There isn't much I can do about it," Ed confessed. He needed it to protect the automail shell, and seal his body from the risk of disease and moisture. "I know it's kinda strong."

Roy tried to make light of it. "You're not kidding," he said. "It powerful like a varnish."

Still looking worried Ed muttered, "Yeah, that's kinda what it does." Roy dropped his gaze to Ed's leg. No part of it looked wet, and Ed's tee shirt was over the arm, but he couldn't help feeling reluctant to let the abrasive chemical and metal climb onto his high thread count sheets. "Don't worry," Ed said, reading Roy's mind. "It doesn't leak and it doesn't stain. It just…smells."

Roy gave a nod and pressed onward. Any further lingering on this topic would be unmistakably rude. It was undesirably obvious he disagreed with Ed's appendages in his bed, but he believed what he said at dinner. They joined to an equal balance by choice alone, and that started one step and day at a time. Gracefully, Roy changed the topic. "I am going to take a shower as well." He gestured to the bed. "Lay down, make yourself comfortable. Is there anything you need?"

Ed seemed eager to flee discussion of his automail, and went quickly to the bed shaking his head. Roy waited until Ed had climbed in, and then left to shower. When he returned in a towel Ed was asleep. Slipping into boxers Roy joined, and the shift of the mattress woke Ed.

"You're bed's really comfy," Ed muttered, half asleep. Roy snuggled to Ed's back, and spooned him. Ed smiled immediately. "You planning to sleep close to me like this?"

"I want to sleep holding you, if you don't mind." Roy said honestly.

Ed tipped back enough to look over his shoulder. His eyes were barely open, but they sought validity. Roy's commitment was more than in his eyes, it was in his face, and in his body. It had entered like a vitamin, ingesting into the cells, bleeding into the organs, and now everything was tainted. Every equation grew with the new component, and Ed could see it. He smiled from ear to ear, with bursting pride and bursting pleasure, but all he said was, "You're such a sap."

Roy smiled. "Be quiet." Equally pleased, he turned off the light and wrapped his arm around Ed's chest, snuggling into the bed. Ed's body was firm, the muscles hard, and automail harder. With appreciation Roy pet his palm over Ed's chest before pausing when he met foreign cotton.

Ed tightened, and muttered, "Yeah…that one is mine." Ed held a lap-sized blanket, and he curled it tighter to himself. "There is a natural plant woven into it, and the touch and scent of it helps me sleep." Ed didn't expand further. He didn't disclose the comfort item was a gift from Pinako during rehabilitation, or share his memories of being wrapped in it, with the cotton up against his cheek, and the musky smell of the weed flooding his sinuses, when things were bad. He didn't share that the touch and smell of it calmed him when he was nervous, or admit he was nervous today and tonight, and wanted something that felt stable in all the chaos. He tried to explain it as maturely as he could, but the facts were the facts: he liked his blanket when he went to sleep the same way five-year-olds liked their stuffed bears, and Roy saw this.

"Ed," Roy said, beginning to laugh. "Holy shit."

"I don't want to talk about the fucking blanket," Ed said quickly, hugging it. "Shut the hell up and go to sleep Roy, god dammit." Roy's soft laughter didn't stop. "It's aromatherapy you prick. Lots of people do this kind of thing."

"No they don't."

"Roy, I mean it. Shut the hell up and go to sleep."

"If it were any earlier," Roy teased, managing his laughter. "I would have had a witty comment."

"And I would have had a witty comeback."

* * *

Roy awoke later, in the baffled thick fog of sleep, when something began tapping his chin. Night had progressed. The sound of the rain was clattering, and the darkness had grown like a stain over all but the dimly lit window curtains. With the coordination of one under a powerful sedative, Roy lifted his head with a bit of confusion and verified, blinking slowly, that the room was in order, and Ed had not moved.

Ed was still in a loose fetal position, back to Roy's chest. Roy's luxurious comforter blanketed them from the waist down, and Roy could smell the outdoor water, spring soil, and brisk assault of night air.

Drifting back to sleep, Roy returned his head to his pillow and came to understand the inconsistent tapping was the back plate of Ed's automail. The metal arm was trembling, and in the faint light Roy could just make out the sporadic jerking. Like that of an old piece of equipment wobbling and chugging to operate, the automail arm was jostling in an unending quake. The metal plate tap tap taping at Roy's chin.

Confused, Roy lifted his head and whispered, "Ed?" Locked over the metal bicep Ed's flesh left hand had the automail tightly pinned to his side. Roy whispered louder. "Edward?" Ed looked back over his shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"Did I wake you?"

Roy hesitated, before giving a small white lie. "No." Roy propped himself up on his elbow. "What's wrong? Are you cold?" He grabbed the blankets, and pulled them to Ed's shoulders, before resting the back of his knuckles on Ed's temple. Ed felt a comfortable temperature, but the open window was only kind if you had the wealth of blankets to burrow in.

"I am—it's fine," Ed said quickly. "I—well—that is—sometimes." Ed couldn't seem to begin his sentence. "I…just, had a bad dream so..." Ed trailed off and fell silent.

"First the baby blanket, and now bad dreams?" Roy teased. He lay back down, looping his arm over Ed's chest, and hugging Ed flush to his body.

"Shut the fuck up about the blanket Roy," Ed said, before shouldering out of the hug. "And don't squeeze me. Sleep near me, but stop hugging so much."

Roy rolled to his back and sighed heavily. _All the time, complication. _"Whatever you want Ed," he said, beginning to drift. Asleep in minutes, it lasted almost forty. With Ed's body separated Roy wasn't aware the automail continued shaking until the elbow managed to get loose and jab him. The unexpected sharp poke in the ribs shook Roy awake with the intensity of one who had seen a war zone. He bolted up, in full command of his body, eyes sharp and hunting for the enemy. Unaware, his startled exhale was aggressive, almost a growl, and his right hand sprung up, ready for offense or defense.

Roy's violent sudden motion scared Ed, and Ed flinched away and pulled to the edge of the bed in equal panic.

"What!" Ed cried, hugging his metal arm to his chest, and looking around. "What! What the hell! What?" His arm was aching something unbearable, and his sudden movement had spiked that down the center of his back and into his hips.

Roy leaned to the lamp and snapped it on. The light popped in the room and Ed squinted with discomfort. Senselessly Roy glanced about himself, emotional charge fading, before turning to Ed.

"Are you in the habit of…bursting to life like that?" Ed asked, voice tight with strain, and expression worse.

Roy was unbothered, albeit confused with whatever had woken him. Sleeping with a second person would do that, and certainly do that until you became used to them. Roy acknowledged Ed might have done something as mundane as rolling over, or as innocent as letting the metal hand touch him where his body responded defensively. The sensation of steel suddenly on his neck, wrist, or even heart, might have been enough to jerk him into action. Enemy combatants didn't always have military weapons, sometimes it was commoner rocks or pipes, but they could be just as fatal.

Roy ran a hand over his face, trying to wake up and verify the way Ed appeared to be injured to him. Groggy, he muttered a slurred, "What…what's going on here?" Ed looked irritably clueless. "What's wrong with you?" The question came out a bit more accusatory than Roy intended, and Ed's eyebrows lifted with insult. "I mean," Roy tried to correct himself, but he was half asleep and exhausted, so instead he just repeated, "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing is wrong with me." Ed sounded disgusted.

"You look…" Roy kept blinking. His eyes didn't want the light, his brain didn't want to be awake. Pulling yourself out of sleep for another person was a chore. "You look like hell." Exhaustion made him honest. Roy sat up more comfortably, and gave Ed's metal arm a few cautious pats. "Why is it doing that?" Ed's angry expression was growing tighter. _Why is it, or why am I! _"Okay, you're getting pissed, I can see that, but I'm half asleep," Roy confessed, trying his best. "Just—just answer my questions, I need sleep. I'm a bad mid…night…mid…sleep person," he said. "This isn't going to work with you turning my mattress into one of those—one of those, cheap hotel sex beds. You're making everything vibrate."

Ed grabbed at his face with his flesh hand. He was mortified with himself. He wasn't about to admit he needed to call this off and deal with his arm, because he wasn't going to call it off! If he had to lie awake, sneak off covering his tracks, and vomit blood tomorrow, that was preferable to having a premature evacuation. Mustang had no patience for stupidity. Disruption felt criminal, and the ink of things too wet for the risk.

"Want me to go sleep on the couch?" Ed asked, hiding in his flesh palm. His arm was in agony, and he was scared to diagnose his thigh. He hadn't so much as shifted his weight since the pain began.

"What?" Roy asked, reaching half mental capacity.

"The couch!" Ed snapped angrily. "I can sleep on the couch, it's not a big deal."

With zero tolerance for something so inane this late at night, Roy barked an angry, reprimanding, "_Ed_," and the standard volume of his voice was loud and commanding in the peaceful room. _As if that was an option. _

The phone began ringing, and the sound of it detonated like a bomb. In the dead silence it seemed shrill and uncontrollable. Roy looked to it with disbelief someone would call him at this hour, but Ed was steps ahead.

"Don't answer that."

Roy looked back to Ed and their gaze locked. Something about the phone intensified things. Ed's jaw was tight with stubborn reluctance to speak and Roy looked at the shaking metal arm with irritation. _It was impossible to lie away something you were looking at._

"Nothing's wrong?" Roy asked flatly. The phone's ring was a rhythmic piercing alarm that sounded loud enough to signal an air raid.

"That's right," Ed said, tone bitterly sarcastic. "Nothing is wrong." Roy reached for the phone and cleared his throat to answer. "Roy, dammit!"

Roy brought the receiver to his ear and gave Ed a supercilious look while answering with a calm, "Hello?"

For a moment there was silence from the other end of the line, then Alphonse spoke. Sounding embarrassed and immensely apologetic he said, "Hello Colonel, I am sorry to be calling so late." Roy was flabbergasted. "I apologize for waking you, but I…really need to speak to my brother." Roy turned his gaze to Ed.

In the silence of the room Ed could hear Alphonse's muffled voice clearly, and his face was hideously angry.

The familiar sensation of being stretched uncomfortably came to Roy: _Not in my job description_. Then it expanded, accurately, evolving with this situation and the new relationship with Ed to form a strangely precise: _Not in my parameter. _That seemed right. There was something about Ed that was not in his parameter. Ed was a visitor to his castle, in harmonious travel via the draw bridge until Ed stopped suddenly, and often unprompted, just outside the moat, and stubbornly refused to make commerce!

Roy did the only thing that came to mind and politely said, "He's not available Alphonse." This was really rather out of line. "I will give him the message tomorrow. Have a nice night."

Alphonse huffed an irritated breath and it became static over the line. "I wouldn't call so late if it was not important sir," Alphonse said quickly, sounding desperate. "Please just let him know now. I know he's awake."

Roy hadn't severed his gaze with Ed, and he found it curious Alphonse knew Ed was up.

He lowered the phone and held the receiver to his chest. "He says he really wants to speak to you."

"Tell him I'll call him tomorrow, I don't want the phone," Ed said, whispering through an expression of blushing rage. Roy went to lift the receiver before pausing when Ed added, "It's just—I mean, I am all right god dammit." Ed did not look all right, and Roy sat watching Ed tremble before returning the phone to his ear. Alphonse was audibly becoming annoyed on the other side.

"Alphonse, Ed says he will call you tomorrow."

"This is _so_ stupid, I am _very _tired." Alphonse complained. "I can't wait for tomorrow colonel. If he won't take the phone, I need to talk to you."

"I don't understand," Roy said flatly. Ed ordered Roy to hand up, but Roy ignored this.

"No, you wouldn't," Alphonse said with a tone of impatience, before late night frustration took him and he snapped an angrily, "Of _course_ you wouldn't! But this is important and this is serious. Tell Ed he needs to talk to me. I am trying to be polite about things."

Roy tried to remember if anything the boys had discussed while he was spying explained this behavior, but nothing came to mind. _This was something new. _Flawlessly, without consulting Ed, Roy gave a fast believing, "He said he's not taking the phone. You're going to have to tell me." _He was curious, overwhelmingly curious about what Alphonse had on the table._ Alphonse seemed very skilled at balancing his relationship with Ed, and also, unlike Ed, was veracious. If Alphonse implied he had information to divulge, Roy not only believed the boy, he wanted that information.

Ed yelled an angry, "Roy!" at the same moment Alphonse sputtered a shocked, "What!" which quickly turned to an angry, "Did Ed say that was okay sir?" Alphonse was skeptical. "Did he let you know this might happen? Does that mean you're coming?"

Roy was baffled. Staring at his dresser he lifted his free hand to defend himself when Ed sat up seething. "Perhaps he did, but only in a vague way," he said, batting Ed's hand aside when Ed tried to grab the phone. _That wasn't a complete lie. Ed communicated lots of things in a vague way. _Roy ducked to the side when Ed tried again for the phone and pointed to his dresser. "Ed, you didn't want the phone, now I am talking," he said, late night exhaustion keeping him in a dry even keel. "Go get on the cordless, you're being rude."

Ed went ballistic. He snatched the phone, and it swung like a hammer into Roy's shoulder. The tiny receiver felt like the head of a golf club. Roy winced, and ducked to avoid the second wicked blow.

"You are such an asshole!" Ed accused, drilling the phone into Roy's shoulder, before pausing for a moment of deep wincing. Roy was ready to unleash wrath over being struck with his own phone, but Ed's strained breaths of pain, and shaking flesh hand silenced him. He straightened from his defensive hunch, and with mild concern brewing, watched Ed bring the receiver to his ear.

Ed's flesh hand was trembling so harshly the phone was jostling, but almost entirely composed Ed croaked a soft, "Alphonse, I will call you tomorrow." Alphonse released a burst of wild yelling. "Stop it," Ed said firmly, "Stop it. I am not putting him back on." Alphonse was giving a speech, and the sound of it was somehow raging between commands and condolences. "It's going to stop soon," Ed said quickly. "And I can manage one night, I didn't know it was going to do this, I thought maybe it wouldn't—and how do you think this makes us look!" Ed accused.

Alphonse was a verbal machine gun, and Ed was provoked quickly. "I am hanging up this phone, and you had better not call back. I don't want to talk about this anymore!"

Alphonse didn't stop, and when amidst the word nii-san, the word please began repeating, Roy slowly climbed out of bed. He stretched alongside his mattress, taking in the situation. There was nothing wise about meddling between two people, and Roy had no intention of attempting to breach the viciously intelligent and potentially hostile Elrics. His loyalty was now to Ed, and any event of weakness or disagreement was to be private, between them only. The only instance where he deemed it appropriate to do otherwise, was that of an emergency, and with Alphonse begging, Roy walked to his dresser. He picked up the cordless and set it to his ear. Ed watched this happen with his eyes turning into wide saucers of dread.

Alphonse's voice came streaming from the handset like angry hornets from their nest. "Please listen to me nii-san! I know you're trying to stay macho about this, but I can't take it! This isn't about anything other than what's happening right now, and you're going to lose control of the situation! How do you plan to hide this from Roy! He's going to realize, don't make it any worse! At least take a prescription! Please nii-san, I am really getting worried! Please come home, you need to come home, we're past this already!"

Ed was mute, staring at Roy who stood on the cordless staring back.

Never did Roy imagine he would have so much conversation with Alphonse when he started messing around with Ed.

When Ed didn't speak, Alphonse muttered a concerned. "Nii-san?" Ed lowered the receiver from his ear looking destroyed. He set it gently on the bed before covering his eyes with his flesh hand and remained quiet. "Nii-san?" Alphonse asked, beginning to escalate.

"Alphonse, this is Roy," Roy said flatly. Ed deflated into the bed as if sitting were too strenuous. Beneath the blankets the shaking metal arm looked like a small trapped animal.

"S—sir," Alphonse said, sounding confused, before collecting his momentum. "Would you be able to drive Ed back please? I am sorry, I know I am interrupting, but he…needs to come home."

"Are we having an emergency?" Roy asked calmly. Alphonse was silent. "Do I need to get him anything?" Alphonse hesitated, before in a soft voice, he said, "Just don't be mad at him."

"Understood."

"Tell him he is going, he won't argue."

Roy found this skeptical, and he debated asking for direction before realizing Alphonse hadn't given any. Detail oriented, Roy had to assume this was not oversight, and he lowered the receiver, and licked his lips. He chose a tone Ed was familiar with from the office, and one Ed felt capable of arguing. "Ed…you're going home."

As if these words were somehow painful, Ed curled tighter with shame, before muttering a soft, "Okay."

Roy did not understand how completely serious things were until that moment.

* * *

To all, thanks for reading! This one was a longie, hopefully a goodie ; ) Some more RoyxEd yummyness, and onward we go with the plot!

Chapter 8: _Weapon of Concealed Simplicity,_ will be posted, 08/09/13.

Please remember to leave a review if you read. If not it's equivalent exchange THEFT!

Posting this story has actually stopped all my other projects, so please find it in your hearts to leave a few words. If you're shot for ideas I'll take one single word. Here are some ideas: _Thanks, Read, Completed, Terrible, Wonderful, Entertaining_…basically you could drop any one adjective. I am not picky. I just want to know you were here!

Think of the review box as a pub bathroom wall. Leave a name and comment, but please, any phone numbers, with 555 lol.


	8. Weapon of Concealed Simplicity

This chapter is rated MA for Mature Sexual Content, Graphic Scenes, and Yaoi Material  
Reader discretion advised

* * *

Foolish For You  
Chapter Eight  
_Weapon of Concealed Simplicity_

- mirage -

Roy disconnected the call with Alphonse and went to Ed with new urgency. Ed sat up with the approach, but the movement was delicate and slow. Once completed Ed sat on the edge of the bed hunched forward with defeat, holding his shaking arm.

"What should I do?" Roy asked. The more accurate question was, _what's going on_, but he didn't believe Ed would answer that.

"I am sorry about this. I understand you're mad," Ed said. His voice was soft and disappointed. Ed's expression had gone to one of relaxed sorrow. As if it were somehow an oversight on his part anything but a sour night end could be assumed.

"I asked what I could do to help," Roy said, empty of judgment. He met Ed's vulnerable gaze with something scolding. "This is not a romance novel Ed." _Why wasn't Ed understanding this?_ "This is real life, and in real life, real things happen." He stopped there, before adding a quick, "And that's okay." _Because somehow, in Ed's world, it didn't seem okay. _"I am not asking for apologies, because I am not upset."

Ed's eyes focus on Roy, and the gold color was a growing sun of admiration. He wasn't expecting the courtesy of understanding, and having it, was a boulder hefted from his shoulders. Ed's expression tightened with painful relief and appreciation, before going strong as he tucked that exposure away, and pressed forward.

"Can you grab my bag for me?" Ed asked. Roy retrieved it from the bathroom, and Ed managed to his feet. Wincing, he secured the automail into the flesh sling of his left arm.

"What else?" Roy asked, eager to help.

Ed took a careful step forward, circumspectly shuffling his weight, but flinching as if walking over glass just the same. "Nothing," Ed said, out of breath. "Are you driving?" Roy nodded. "Then start the car."

Roy took a step back and paused. He wanted confirmation this wasn't an emergency, but suggestion felt salt to Ed's very clear wound."Should—do you want help?"

Ed gave an immediate nonnegotiable, "No," and pointed toward the stairs. "Go, I'll follow."

Roy took loose sweatpants with him and put them on in the foyer before stepping into sandals. He tossed on a jacket, and was thankful the garage was attached.

It took Ed almost ten minutes to independently descend the stairs and reach the car. Roy managed, gripping the steering wheel with self-restraint, and watching Ed shuffle along the front of the car like a parody of the undead.

The passenger side was open and waiting. When Ed arrived, and reached into the car, securing the top of the seat with a shaking hand, and easing himself down as if his spine were fractured and his hips were cracker-sized bone shards narrowly escaping the flesh back of his hips, Roy didn't move. He didn't extend a hand to help, and he didn't speak.

He was motionless, not out of thoughtlessness, but in thoughtfulness. Assistance was only accurately termed when desired. Unwanted, it was something ugly: conquering force, callous tyranny, and the murder of respect and dignity.

Ed did not ask, and so Roy did not offer, and when Ed was seated, with his head tipped back in the respite of pain less than that of walking, Roy turned the engine. Ed shut his own door, and they backed out.

The rain came in a pressure hose to the top of the car and windshield. Roy kicked the wipers into gear at full blast. The sound was loud, and with an expression of forced tranquility, Ed slowly lolled his head to face Roy and studied him. Somehow even in the dead of night, Roy was the impressive colonel Ed remembered meeting so many years ago. He was the tall, blue suited figure parading about Resembool as if he owned it. The cunning, immovable, and impenetrable king behind the mahogany desk in Central. The deep baritone voice over the phone, the unending authority, and Roy was more powerful than most men Ed had met in Central, because he had the power of the just. Like a lone candle, he was a bright light of well-meaning constitution and respectable goodness. It wasn't just the tall body, Machiavellian eyes, enamoring wit, or power Ed was fascinated with, it was the soul inside Mustang that honorably wielded like a knight for no other reason than serving under gluttony, vanity, or barbarity had not, and would never, occur to him. _The man knew no other way, and for that, Ed felt love. _

For Mustang to find Ed a worthy partner felt like grace Ed was unprepared to receive. He wasn't so deluded he'd paint Mustang as a god, but the deity commitment in Mustang's logic, approach, and aggressive care for those in line below him was starkly present. Ed found himself longing to be part of that line a year before he identified what else inside him was longing. He wanted to covet Mustang, and he wanted Mustang to desire him in return.

"What are you thinking right now?" Ed asked softly. He felt miles apart from Roy's mind, and his apartment was closing in like an unavoidable collision.

Roy sensed Ed's gaze and glanced quickly to meet it before returning focus to the road. He was driving at god-knows what hour in his pajamas. _He was thinking more than one thing, but Ed was still priority one._

"I am thinking you put a lot of effort into hiding things which are important to you."

Ed grunted a scoffing disagreement. "I wouldn't use the word important."

Roy glanced over. Ed was still holding his arm, and looked equally out-of-place in the car while only wearing a tee shirt and underwear.

"You could say relevant then," Roy said, dipping into the bit of sarcasm he was trying to avoid. Although he was playing nice, he wasn't exactly pleased with what was happening. "What word would you use?"

"I don't like having myself cast in a weak light," Ed said defensively. "You can appreciate that Colonel, last I checked, you had something hanging between your legs too."

Roy shot Ed a look of scorn. "This is a masculinity thing with you?" Roy was baffled. They approached a red light and Roy stopped. Above them a street lamp cast a merciless yellow glow into the car and made them both look under the weather. "Is this an effort to show me how tough you are? You don't think human transmutation at the age of ten months didn't send a clear message?" Roy exaggerated. Ed met Roy's eyes looking annoyed. "For someone who keeps telling me how simple they want things, this seems like an awful lot of unnecessary bullshit." The light turned green and Roy resumed driving.

"I have been nothing but straight forward with you," Ed said, speaking quickly with defensiveness.

"Ed, I am in pajamas," Roy said dryly. "At the crack of dawn, I am out driving through Central in pajamas, when we have work tomorrow."

"And that is what you define as unnecessary bullshit!"

"It's certainly unnecessary," Roy said. Ed scoffed. "At the very least it's unexplained." Roy took a good look at Ed while turning into the barracks. Ed was shaking his head in slow angry disagreement. "Why is there such a big difference between Alphonse and myself?"

Ed closed his eyes, and said, "Don't go there."

"I am left to assume obviously there is a lack of faith, but I don't see what I've done to deserve that judgment."

"Don't go there Roy," Ed said, firming his voice into a command." Ed tried to sit straighter in his chair, and the movement caused him to hug his arm cautiously, as if it were broken. "Look, I am sorry about this." The flesh arm cradled the automail as if it had been crushed. "I didn't want it to be like this."

Roy was quiet and chewed over these words. Ed had tried to hide what was happening, and, in some idiotic way, was trying to ignore it. "Alphonse said you're in—might be uncomfortable," Roy said. "Why are you trembling?" Roy had to assume it was with pain. "Are you nervous?"

Ed was disgusted. "About what!" Ed demanded angrily. "What do I possibly have to be nervous about!"

Roy couldn't explain he knew Ed's hands shook with anxiety the first time they were together. _Couldn't say he was spying through the door._ He approached Ed's building and pulled into a parking space. His headlights swept the front stoop, and sitting outside under an umbrella was Alphonse.

Ed's face leapt with relief when the headlights discovered Alphonse as powerfully as a flashlight falling onto the exit of very dark place. Ed whispered a quick and happy, "Al," and reached to the latch of his door before adding, "I will call you tomorrow Roy. I promise."

Roy's jaw dropped with something as hot as insulted rage, when Alphonse, looking half asleep and none-too peaceful, ran down the barrack walkway to the car in a sweatshirt and boxers, and ripped open Ed's door.

Alphonse's head was in the car talking before Roy could manage a word. "Colonel! I am really sorry about all of this!" Alphonse said. _Something about that phrase was years old in familiarity._

Roy stepped out of the car and slammed the door behind him. He was waking up enough to reacquaint himself with anger and said, "I bet you are Elrics."

Alphonse didn't hear this, and the magnitude of things came back to Roy when he realized neither did Ed. Ed's flesh hand was flat against Alphonse's chest, keeping the boy at arm's length, while climbing from the car with the coordination of a hundred year old arthritis patient.

The rain was unbearable, and Roy pulled his jacket up over his head. The umbrella censored Alphonse from the shoulders up, and blocked almost all of Ed. "I knew it," Alphonse said, repeating the phrase several times. "I knew it, as soon as it started to storm this hard." Alphonse was collecting as much of Ed's weight as possible. "What happened?" His question was fast, sounding stunned and almost terrified. "Did you get caught in it? Did you not seal correctly? Nii-san, what happened?"

From underneath the umbrella Ed rasped a response that sounded angry with sabotage, and said, "I don't know what's happening!"

For Roy, alarm became audible in Ed's voice for the first time, and Roy's anger drained over his body with the rain and trickled away from his sandals. _Don't lose sight of the situation, _he told himself. It was easy to become angry, but there was a time, and there was a place for it. He could kick Ed's healthy-ass up-and-down once this was over if he so chose.

Roy left Alphonse pulling Ed's flesh arm over his shoulders, and went ahead to open the building door. Alphonse closed Roy's passenger with his foot, and was moving quickly, but carefully with Ed slung to his side like a wounded soldier. The position correctly supported Ed's body weight, and it wasn't until the boys were near on top of him, Roy realized the design was more than function.

_Alphonse was hugging Ed, _with immense stealth, but emotionally, Ed knew he was being held.

Roy went ahead to the Elric apartment door as well. Not one foot inside Ed's flesh hand pointed to the hallway in a clear command for Roy to leave, but Roy ignored this. Alphonse took Ed to the infamous couch, and, holding his arm, Ed sat back with a deep groan, and continued huffing as if out of breath.

"Nii-san, listen to me," Alphonse said, demanding Ed's undivided attention. "What do you need?" Ed was stumped, and gave his head a worried shake. "Are you on anything right now?" Ed averted his gaze and licked his lips with discomfort. "Do I need to call someone!" Alphonse asked, growing distressed. "Is what's happening normal!"

"A hot pack," Ed muttered, tipping his head down toward his knees as if hyperventilating. "Can you get me a hot pack?"

"Nii-san, I'll call granny," Alphonse threatened angrily.

"Alphonse, no!" Ed snapped, jerking his head up. His flesh hand shot out in a fierce point, and aimed at Alphonse's glare. "I am on Flexabil, I took it, before I went to bed. One dose."

Alphonse began a series of quick nods and said, "That muscle relaxer is really light, let's try the pins."

"Okay," Ed whined, before shaking his head, "I mean no!" Ed said firmly. Alphonse was already in route to the bedroom. "Alphonse! I changed my mind!" Ed called, turning his gaze to Roy.

Roy could see the events compounding, raising Ed's discomfort like a thermometer toward some type of pop. _This was the effect of him inside the apartment, and not outside with the peep-hole._

"Ed," Roy said, lowering his voice discreetly. "What's going on?" Ed pinched his lips, as if to physically restrain the sharing of information, and it was very clear: _information was not going to be shared_. This was the Edward who at age twelve stood motionless and mute for forty-five minutes before he gave in. Cracking the fortitude of a twelve-year-old was not the same as a nineteen year-old, and at god-only-knows what hour, Roy was not in the mood to even try. He left Ed on the couch, and went after Alphonse.

Ed was no fool and yelled after Roy, but Roy entered the bedroom and went straight to Alphonse who was crouched in Ed's closet wedging a fat box out from the bottom shelf. Roy approached with his patients dwindling and said, "Alphonse, what's going on here?"

Alphonse was struggling with the box in the sort of tug-of-war that suggested the closet, like a dog, had bitten down on its end, and was not letting go. "Nii-san is very sensitive to damp air," Alphonse said, jerking the box roughly from left to right. The closet was crammed to the brim with laundry and books, and the small space was barely enough for Alphonse to manage. "Most automailees are sensitive to damp air, didn't you know that?" Alphonse stopped pulling the box free and looked up with a wide-eyed expression of surprise? _Did you start dating someone with automail and not…know anything?_

"I don't know a lot about automail," Roy confessed. "Why would I?"

Alphonse's staring didn't stop, and it implied the obvious: _Maybe because you once employed a child with automail, and then a teenager, and now a man, day-in-and-day-out, with more than his personal records, but his medical records floating across your desk, and all the times Ed was maintenanced, and all the times he was re-outfitted as he grew, those reports went to you and you never looked at them? _

"Attention is not granted to things in good standing," Roy said quickly, explaining himself before he remembered he didn't need to explain himself to Alphonse Elric.

"That's why Rush Valley is located in part of Amestrian desert community Colonel," Alphonse said, as if it were all so obvious. "You kind of..." Alphonse ripped the box out in a tremendous yank and sunk to his butt. "…control your exposure the best you can. Like an allergy, it's inevitable, and some exposure is a nuisance, but lots of exposure, or continued exposure, is harmful. A boxer doesn't keep using an injured arm, you have to wait for it to heal." Alphonse pushed himself to his feet. "Nii-san's had some—well, a small pattern of dampness exposure recently, and the continuing rain has been hard."

Roy couldn't believe how quickly and easily Alphonse explained simple things Ed refused to divulge. "He gets like this from just the rain outside!" Roy exclaimed, pointing to the bedroom window. The pane was in constant motion with the water flowing downward. _How the hell could this type of sensitivity be properly documented, and he never noticed it! _"That is not in his file,  
Roy accused.

Alphonse looked guilty, and then a bit panicked, but skirted the topic quickly. "No, this is unusual." Alphonse stepped around Roy, tucking the box beneath his arm. "This is more appropriate for nii-san standing negligent in a downpour, or deliberately lingering in a storm."

Alphonse quickly returned to the couch, waving for Roy to hang back. He dropped the closet box on the coffee table directly across from Ed, sat next to it, and said, "Nii-san, were you outside?" Ed was hunched forward staring at the floor as if he'd taken a blow to the gut. "Why are you this bad?"

"I don't know." Ed's tone was furious, and receded to temporary silence.

Alphonse reached to Ed's hips to lift Ed's tee shirt, but Ed wouldn't cooperate, and Alphonse had to peel it up and then down Ed's arms to get it off. "Nii-san, you must have been outside."

"I stayed inside!"

"This isn't an indoor response." Alphonse laid a hand on Ed's flesh shoulder, and gently pressed upward so Ed unfolded, but Ed's stiff mannerisms reminded Roy of something frozen out of preexisting flexibility. Ed was yawning a deep wince of pain, and clutching the port of his shoulder, like any moment he would crack in two.

"Ah, I was fine earlier," Ed rasped, leaning into the back of the couch. Alphonse was rubbing his palms over Ed's upper shoulders, and flesh bicep as if Ed were cold.

Roy was aghast as to why Ed would suffer so outside of his own apartment.

Speaking in confidence to Alphonse, Ed muttered, "I took a shower. I put everything on I was supposed to." His tone was soft and pitiful, before becoming frustrated. "I did my maintenance before I went to Roy's. Took a light dose of Flexabil just in case." Ed became angry. "I don't know why the fuck this is happening now! I have no damn idea what's going on!"

Alphonse fed his hands underneath the metal arm and into the joint of Ed's arm pit, but Ed arched away. "Okay, that hurts," Ed said quickly. Alphonse's fingers had sunk into Ed's metal, and the sight was morbidly disturbing to Roy. "Ow!" Ed snapped angrily, twitching when something sensitive was prodded. "Alphonse, you can stop! It all hurts!" Ed shoved Alphonse off with his flesh hand.

Alphonse stepped back and studied Ed. "Your muscles are all knotted up."

Livid, Ed said, "I know."

"Okay, we'll do some normal stuff, and see if it works, and if you're not better soon, we'll do some more serious stuff, how's that?" Alphonse asked, seeking Ed's approval.

Ed was quiet, sitting stiffly and thinking this over. Once in battle Roy had seen three soldiers, shot in the same instance, waiting on their single medic. Relief came one at a time, and in deeply concentrated endurance the third man had sat going pale and glassy-eyed counting the seconds. Ed resembled this solder: falling mute as the pain mounted, and appearing incapable of even basic movement and decision making. After a long pause, Ed whispered a single, "Okay," and Alphonse took off running to the bathroom.

Ed turned to Roy looking dreadfully uncomfortable. "Usually you think, the worst thing that could happen during a date, is food poisoning," Ed said, forcing a weak and pained smile. "You know?"

"Sure," Roy agreed. No one wanted that.

"This is…like me getting food poisoning so..." Ed shifted his weight gently. "I am sorry to…and this…" Ed licked his lips and took a deep breath. "I am sorry to cut the night short, but, I think it…might be best if…you left."

Roy was stunned. He could see Ed's embarrassment in his face. Ed's expression was tense with tolerated strain, struggling to keep a socially acceptable expression. His brow was furrowed; his eyes squinted as if under the pressure of a migraine. His suffering was draining the constitution of his appearance, and with obvious, but stubborn reluctance to succumb to undignified pain complaints, he was fighting to remain presentable.

"Ed," Roy said, "I know this was unexpected, but it's all right."

"I am not looking for approval," Ed said quickly, letting out a small grunt of pain. "Or sympathy. Right now…I am just looking for some privacy." Ed licked his lips again. His rate of breath was beginning to severely escalate, and Roy felt compassion begin to blossom. _Ed looked horrible._ "This is personal for me, and it's not really a spectator's event."

"Ed, I don't want to leave you like this," Roy said softly. He sat down on the coffee table, but Ed ducked his head so their eyes couldn't meet. "I can see that you're in pain."

"And what you're not getting," Ed said, raising his voice angrily. "Is that I don't want you here while I am sitting on my thumb dealing with it!" Alphonse returned with a small plastic bin of supplies and looked uncomfortable with Ed's raised voice. "Alphonse!" Ed snapped, keeping his loud tone. "The colonel was just leaving, can you see him out?" Alphonse and Roy exchanged fast glances, and Ed snarled at them both. "I am not going to be fucking contradicted at this moment in my life, got that?" Ed snapped, lifting his flesh hand up to point at them both. "I am not a fucking invalid, and if you don't respect what I am saying, I am going to get the fuck up!"

Roy had never heard Ed speak so cruelly to Alphonse, and he looked uneasily to the younger brother, but Alphonse seemed unfazed. Somehow, even as a bystander to their relationship, Alphonse understood that Roy wanted to stay, and Ed, at least deep down, also wanted Roy at his side.

"Nii-san, are you sure that's what you want?" Alphonse asked softly.

Ed slammed his flesh hand down alongside of him looking furious. "Are you serious! How much clearer do I have to be!" Ed yelled. Alphonse nodded and turned to Roy. Alphonse's complexion was a bit clammy with his sleep deprivation, and his eyes were tired and heavy. He paused, as if he were choosing his words very carefully, before offering to help Roy in a way Roy never expected.

"Colonel, before I see you out, could you do me a quick favor and heat up the hot packs in the kitchen?" Roy's jaw dropped a little bit. _Alphonse was helping him stay!_ "They are in the top right kitchen cabinet. You'll just need to heat some water on the stove for them."

"What! No!" Ed said "No favors!" Ed was not stupid, and yelled an accusing, "Alphonse!" Roy left the room while he had a safe opportunity. He wasn't going to voluntarily remove himself, and Alphonse's actions were a vote of confidence. In the kitchen, he sought out the hot packs listening to the brother's argue. "You contradictive jerk!" Ed said. "You're undermining me. You're undermining me with the colonel!"

"I am not undermining anyone," Alphonse said sweetly. "I need some help. I can't do all of this at once." Alphonse sounded sincere. "Now if we don't hurry, we're not going to be able to stop this, and you're going to be in a bad way nii-san, you know that." Alphonse's tone held a gentle scolding, and Ed silenced. "Don't talk with that in your mouth. You can argue in a minute."

Roy found pots and easily put water to boil. At a maniac pace, he completed his task, itching to return to the doorway. He could hear the boys scrambling, and when he finally back peddled to look, they were both digging into the plastic bin of supplies.

Breath still elevated, Ed's metal arm was curled tightly to his lap, and with a thermometer in his mouth, he uprooted a gray electronic box dangling wires from the bin, and shook it free of the few supplies it dredged up. Alphonse helped, plucking off the small plastic wrapped pieces, before pulling an identical remote from the box. In harmony born of experience, they were both quickly untangling their wires, and threading free the strongest cable.

Roy watched with fascination when Ed located the jack at the end of his wire, and plugged it into the side of his thigh. _This was alien._ Suddenly Roy felt repelled, and then quickly, overcame that sentiment. Ed's immediate cyborg and science fiction resemblance faded with memory of Ed's younger self, hospitalized, and at the receiving end of a friendly nurse, plugging small electronics into either automail limb. They were temperature and pressure gauges, something obvious in accessory and function.

Roy heard Alphonse repeating in his head: _Didn't you know that?_

"Let me know if you need help sir!" Alphonse called. Roy jerked back from the doorway, as if caught, and verified the pots were still in the process of coming to boil. His task was small, and reluctant to interrupt, he was even more reluctant to be accused of loitering in the kitchen. _Or worse, spying._

With false confidence Roy returned to the living room and stopped alongside the coffee table. "What else can I do to help?" he asked.

Ed's head was in his hand, flesh palm over his face, and he ignored Roy, but Alphonse looked up. "Umm," Alphonse said, glancing around for a task. "Ah, make…some…coffee?" Alphonse asked, before clearing his throat and repeating firmly, "Yes, make some coffee. That would be helpful."

Roy didn't think this was helpful in any way, but complied. He took his time, delaying the inevitable return to the living room, and watching the brothers as much as possible.

After a minute of Alphonse hovering between either of Ed's remotes, Ed took the thermometer from his mouth and read it. "I don't have a fever," Ed said, leaning for the bin of supplies and urgently snapping his fingers when he couldn't reach it.

"Are you sure?" Alphonse asked, grabbing Ed's arm remote to read the digital screen, while pushing the bin towards Ed's hand.

"Yes, I am positive!" Ed said, digging into the bin. "I want it now!"

Alphonse moved from the remote on Ed's arm to the one on his leg, and sounding baffled said, "You're right!"

"I know I am right."

"That's amazing!"

"It's not going to be fucking amazing in a minute when I get one, now hurry up," Ed said, tearing loose a prescription sheet of individually packaged purple pills. "Hurry up," Ed said, shoving it to Alphonse. Using both hands, Alphonse bent the package and popped a single pill free. "Hurry, my temp is climbing."

"I am going, I am going."

The capsule was a large oval, and a hearty neon color. Ed threw it into his mouth and instead of swallowing, began sucking on it.

Alphonse watched critically before saying, "Get it under your tongue nii-san, you'll absorb it faster." He moved back to Ed's arm remote. "Nii-san, you're almost ninety-nine." Ed tipped his head back, sucking heavily, and groaned in his throat. "You just passed ninety-nine nii-san," Alphonse said, sounding worried. "Take it." Alphonse pushed the remote into Ed's hand. "Let me get your hot packs."

Roy backed into the kitchen and waited for Alphonse to appear. Alphonse entered and went directly to the stove, as if Roy were not present.

_Roy was all over Alphonse. _"What happens if his temperature climbs?" Roy asked, stepping to Alphonse's side and looking down at the boy.

"The same thing that happens to everyone else," Alphonse said. "Nii-san can only be in that condition for so long, then he becomes ill and starts vomiting." Alphonse grabbed a fork and tested the first hot pack with a few pokes.

Roy was shocked. _All this from a little rain!_

"Don't get confused Colonel, what nii-san has is a bit more than muscle aches. The aching and tension escalates quickly, knotting his muscles to the point where it's difficult to move, and spreading from his shoulder into his back, and his leg into his hips. He's described it to me as his body turning into cement from the inside." Alphonse grabbed a pot and dumped it into the sink. "A lot of precautionary work goes into avoiding what you're seeing now. It's rare," Alphonse glanced at Roy, and something in his eyes was a bit accusatory. "This has only happened a few times, and never outside of Resembool. You learn to avoid this quickly, and nii-san's good with the automail."

"I couldn't have done something to cause this," Roy said, getting the sense he was being blamed. "I can't control the weather."

Alphonse grabbed a hot pack out of the sink and wrapped it in a thin towel. "I know," Alphonse said, sounding skeptical. "It's odd."

Alphonse took the hot packs and returned to the couch. He wrapped Ed's arm and leg port as best he could and then they waited. Ed had finished his medicine, and for the next twenty minutes sat perfectly still, holding his shaking arm, with his eyes closed in a fit of tenacity. Roy and Alphonse had a cup of coffee, lingering about the kitchen, and back and forth from the living room. Aside from the ticking clock the apartment went silent.

At twenty-five minutes, Ed's opened his eyes and said angrily, "It's not working."

Alphonse was slouched on the parallel couch sipping his coffee when Ed said this, and he sat up at once. "Are you sure?" Ed nodded. "Nii-san, are you sure?" Alphonse asked again, voice dreadfully serious.

"Yes," Ed snarled.

Alphonse went quickly to the kitchen sink and began scrubbing his hands. Roy had taken residence in the kitchen doorway, certain Ed would throw him out as soon as he became more noticeable, and he looked to Alphonse for direction.

Without looking up from the bubbled hive of his palms, Alphonse said, "You stay in this room, and don't bother him for this." Alphonse's tone was authoritative. "I am not asking you to leave, if you two are in a relationship, than this could happen at your house, and then you're going to have to help him." Suddenly the idea this could happen scared Roy. Alphonse seemed trained, and Roy had no idea what he needed to do. Coupled with Ed's handicapped communication, he could only imagine the blunder they'd make. _They'd end up in the ER!_

"If this happened at my house, I would have no idea what to do," Roy said quickly.

Alphonse indicated the refrigerator with a dripping hand. "Open that. There are two prescription bottles on the top shelf of the door. Get them out." Alphonse grabbed a cup.

Roy opened the refrigerator and looked around. Hidden behind a slew of condiments he found two Central pharmacy medicinal bottles.

Roy retrieved them and stood clueless holding each. Alphonse looked at the labels quickly and indicated the right bottle. "Pour four tablespoons of that in here." Alphonse thrust the cup forward before stepping back to yell to the living room. Roy looked at the glass feeling unqualified. _Was he supposed to guess what four tablespoons was? _"Nii-san! Recite elements with me!"

"Recite them by yourself!" Ed sounded vicious.

"Come on nii-san!" Alphonse ignored this. "Hydrogen, Lithium, Beryllium, Sodium, come on!"

"Piss off Alphonse!" Ed yelled.

Alphonse returned an expectant gaze to Roy and gave the empty glass an insistent wiggle.

"I can't estimate cooking measurements," Roy confessed.

"It's four tablespoons," Alphonse said, as if this measurement were obvious, _to everyone. _Looking impatiently annoyed he said, "Pour until I say when."

Alphonse took four tablespoons from each bottle so the bottom of the cup was a thick chalky white liquid, and the top was a thin soupy brown. He carried the glass to Ed, and Roy stayed in the kitchen.

Ed's flesh hand extended for the drink, and snatched it from Alphonse as soon as he was in reach. "I want Roy…the fuck…out of here," Ed snarled.

"Why nii-san?" Alphonse asked, plucking latex gloves from the supply bin as if they were tissues. He wiggled into them quickly, and ripped open a disinfectant wipe with Ed trying to drink the prescriptions.

The taste looked unbearable, and Ed dry heaved after his first swallow before gulping down the rest. As soon as he was finished, Ed dropped the cup to the floor panting, and loudly ordered, "Get him out!"

"Nii-san, he's making coffee," Alphonse lied, grabbing Ed's automail arm with his left hand and wiping the cloth all about the port's edge and Ed's skin. Ed shuttered and broke a procrastinating whine. "It's okay nii-san, I will do it so careful. Don't be such a wimp." Ed's expression was tight with sickening dread, and he averted his gaze into the room. "Nii-san, you won't even feel it." Alphonse used the disinfectant wipe to open the box he'd pulled from Ed's closet. Even from the kitchen Roy could see it was filled with intimidating needles, and his jaw dropped. They were several inches long and very thin, like a box of silver spaghetti noodles. Manageable in grip, the bottom few inches were the true needle. Sharp and spider thread in width, they looked fierce, and were sealed in thin medical packaging.

Ed looked at the box and gave another whimper. "Okay, let's try the hot packs again," he said, sounding queasy. "Just to—just to be sure." Alphonse disinfected Ed's shoulder until it was dripping with moisture. Then he grabbed a long thin wand and ripped the packaging off the needle. "I—I need a minute," Ed whispered. Alphonse didn't slow down. "I fucking hate needles Alphonse." Ed was watching Alphonse with wide eyes, as if the tiny needle was a sword.

"But you're so good at taking them," Alphonse said sweetly, looking to Ed. "Tell me," Alphonse said, leaning closer with a tight grasp on the upper automail arm. "Start on Hydrogen," Ed began shaking his head to argue, but Alphonse was quick, and whispering, asked, "Is this what you're going to do with the colonel here?" With nothing cruel in tone, Alphonse's question and accusation was heavy. _Is this what you're going to do? Act like a baby!_

Like the last piece of a puzzle, this question suddenly made Roy realize Alphonse had not kicked him out, because Alphonse had foreseen this! Somehow Alphonse had anticipated the night's events taking them here, and while Ed looked strong with protest before the question, it caused the fight to run out of him like water.

No, no of course we were not going to, _act like that. _We were certainly not going to, _do that with the colonel here. _The stakes just became higher, the privacy curtain was just pulled back, this was a public display now, a theatrical performance for the most exalted and worshipped critic there was: Roy Mustang. We weren't going to, _behave like that, _with Roy standing watch, fuck! A little needle? Who cares! Cut the arm off, no big deal, fucking take it!

"Yeah, okay," Ed said, snarling with his teeth clenched under the weight of peer pressure, and the risk of his performance going sour. _Roy was watching this, can you take a needle like a man? _"Fucking stick it in Al, stop messing around."

Alphonse wasn't messing around, but he didn't argue. He had sterilized the area, readied his tools, was suited in gloves, and almost face first to Ed's shoulder as if there were a tiny keyhole for the shinning blade in his hand, and he planned to pick it.

"Okay," Alphonse muttered, setting the needle to Ed's skin. "I'll stop messing around."

Ed felt the needle touch and went hostage with indecision, before gripping the couch in bravado, and tipping his head straight down. He braced for the puncture, and Alphonse pressed it down gently, as if he were feeding a toothpick into a cake.

Ed flinched. "It stings,"

"It's going in fine."

"It stings Alphonse!"

The needle went in two, maybe three inches, and then Alphonse sat back, examining the job he'd done. Ed wasn't bleeding, and had taken the needle with only mild skin irritation. About the puncture wound, and single pillar of the wand, his skin was pink and puffy, but nothing more.

Alphonse was pleased, and ripped open a second needle with Roy horrified and rooted in place. This was the most aggressive acupuncture he'd ever seen. After six needles, all embedded and fanning outward from Ed's shoulder port, Ed looked fatigued with relief. His breathing went heavy and slow, and he shewed Alphonse's seventh needle away.

Alphonse moved to Ed's leg and began the same process. After four needles it was obvious the pain had dulled, and Ed was reciting elements slowly. Eight needles in, Ed drifted into a light sleep.

Roy crept from the kitchen and stopped alongside the far couch with mild worry. Ed's flesh thigh was a forest of tall steel quills, as if the automail leg was breeding tentacles upward into the meat of him, and they were popping free like roots.

"Is he okay?" Roy asked quietly.

"He's exhausted," Alphonse said, seated comfortably on the floor examining Ed's needles. "But there is no reason to keep your voice down, the muscle relaxer he took has a nasty drowsiness side effect. It wears off quickly, but right now, he'd barely wake up if we were shouting." Alphonse looked over and swept Roy with his eyes before cracking a smile. "You look scary like that." Alphonse pointed to Roy's visible bare chest beneath his jacket. "Like some type of horny old man."

"Fantastic," Roy said dryly.

"Want me to get you a shirt?"

Alphonse gave Ed's leg one last look before climbing to his feet and peeling his gloves off. He dropped them onto the coffee table and retrieved a one-sized-fits-all boot-camp tee shirt and tossed it over.

"Thanks," Roy said, stripping his jacket off and tossing it to the second couch. "And thanks for…letting me stay."

"I love my brother, and I also know him really well. Sometimes you have to get pushy with him." Alphonse sounded calm and factual as he explained this. "This is kind of like…a big ice breaker." Alphonse flashed a wide toothy grin. "So it should help you both in the future." Roy pulled Alphonse's shirt on trying to decide how he felt about this future with Ed. "Is it too forward to ask how your night went? Nii-san is so tired; I have to assume things went well."

Roy sighed, and ran his hand down his cotton chest. He hadn't worn a boot-camp tee shirt in years. "I suppose, given the details of our relationship, no."

"So…you're official now?"

"That's the meat of it." _Even if it did make us sound like we were in grade school._

Alphonse smiled. "Ed'll be glad to hear it." Alphonse eased down at Ed's side, careful not to jostle the couch or Ed in any way.

"Is it true you're dating that girl at work?" Roy asked casually.

Alphonse stiffened, as if caught in a lie, and looked up with startled surprise. "Yeah well," Alphonse said, looking guilty. "The truth is I…didn't think you'd hear about it and…we're not in the same department so…"

Roy waved this off and sat down on the parallel couch. "It's not a problem." _He could care less._ "Just adding to the rumor mill in my own way I suppose." He gave Alphonse a faint smile and Alphonse returned it.

"We're rather unofficial," Alphonse said. "And I do like her," Alphonse said, reaching into the coffee table and grabbing two new gloves. "I just…" Alphonse wiggled into them and took a disinfectant wipe. He ripped open the small square package and scrubbed his plastic hands before turning to sit facing Ed.

Ed looked as if he had peacefully drifted off. His expression was serene, and although part of his shoulder and thigh were fat and pink with irritation, it seemed not to be painful.

"She's a lot of fun, but right now I don't know if starting a relationship would be the best thing," Alphonse said.

Roy watched Alphonse carefully grab the first needle he'd slid into Ed, and slowly begin withdrawing it. The removal was careful, and the pin separated with only the tiniest bead of blood clinging to the end.

"Why is that?" Roy asked.

"I hesitate to tell you honestly, because I don't want it effecting your decisions, but really, I don't want to start anything until I know what nii-san is doing." Alphonse set the used pin to the side of the couch and began withdrawing a second. "I think it would be hard for Ed to have her here, and for her to be monopolizing so much of my time." The second and third pin withdrew smoothly as well. Ed didn't so much as twitch. "That would have me rather preoccupied while nii-san is going through all of this."

Roy looked at the automail. "Is it that much of a burden for him?" he asked with surprise.

Alphonse paused, and smiled widely before glancing over. "I meant you." Alphonse wiped Ed's shoulder with disinfectant as soon as the needles were out, and Ed's arm gave a subtle flinch. "He…well, let's just say nii-san gets very frustrated when things aren't going his way." Alphonse moved to sit on the floor, and Roy considered this statement while watching Alphonse remove Ed's leg pins.

"Does he really talk about me that much?" Roy asked, both flattered and embarrassed.

"Yes he does." Alphonse withdrew the last needle, and the intimidating metal of its blade twinkled with Ed's blood. Undisturbed Alphonse wiped it clean before adding it to the pile. "I want him in his bed. Not on this couch," Alphonse said to Roy. "I can sleep out here, and you two can take his bed, or...my bed," Alphonse said, looking embarrassed. "Or, if, actually I don't know how you guys sleep, so if you want one of the couches... Or, but you're welcome to my bed."

Roy politely held up his hand in refusal. "No, I couldn't possibly," he said. "I'll take the couch; you two can have your room. I am a guest, and I appreciate you letting me stay the night."

"Are you sure?" Alphonse asked, pulling a box from under the coffee table. "I don't mind colonel, really." Alphonse opened the box and retrieved a large half empty tube of ointment. He opened it, and squeezed an ample blob into his palm, before scrubbing them together.

The odor of the balm was powerful. It wafted into the room and was nearly overpowering by the time Alphonse's hands were sparkling with the thick gel.

"Yes, I am positive, thank you," Roy said.

Alphonse took a gentle hold on Ed's thigh about the top of the automail port, and circled his palms leaving streaks of the heavy grease behind. The act itself looked medically appropriate, but it gave Roy the skeeves. No part of being coated with something the thickness of peanut butter, and as greasy as Crisco, seemed pleasurable. Alphonse's mannerisms weren't those of basic spreading, but more as if he were trying to wipe his globbed palms clean on Ed's skin.

Ed's expression tightened, and he shifted his weight with discomfort, as if half asleep and trying to avoid a fly.

"Nii-san, are you waking up?" Nothing about Ed looked as if he was, or could, wake up, and Alphonse singled out a finger and probed at the port of Ed's automail as if trying to grout it to Ed's skin. "Nii-san, I want you to sleep in your bed." Alphonse moved to Ed's arm and repeated the same greasing and caulking with Ed's earlier words floating through Roy's mind. _It doesn't leak and it doesn't stain. _"Nii-san." Alphonse's tone became more insistent, and he began a friendly continuous jabbing of Ed's ribs. "Nii-san, wake up and listen to me."

"Is he going to come around?" Roy asked, confused with Ed's lifeless self, and Alphonse's determination. Alphonse nodded, and continued a series of jabs and stern requests for Ed to wake up, until Ed shifted his weight and yawned slowly.

"Nii-san, you need to get in bed." Alphonse was repeating this often, followed with. "It's late, and we have work." Alphonse gave Roy a quick apologetic smile. "Talking to him pulls him out of it faster, so just, give me a few minutes."

Alphonse continued the same repetitive requests in a slightly raised tone to grab Ed's attention. With both gloves off he was quickly tossing supplies back into their respective boxes when Ed first spoke, in a slurred and soft tone. "No…work tomorrow."

"We have work," Alphonse correctly quickly. "Let's go to bed now." Roy waited patiently to see when Alphonse was going to add him to the mix. "Okay?" Alphonse asked.

"I was at Roy's," Ed muttered. "I was…"

"I know you were, but you're home now," Alphonse corrected.

"At his…" Ed continued half asleep. "I had…lots of sex." Ed's sudden confession was a social bomb, and Alphonse stalled with sudden embarrassment, and glanced quickly from Roy's stunned expression to Ed's tired one. For a moment, it looked as if he might apologize to Roy, or perhaps, try to wake Ed into awareness, before Ed continued with, "Lots of…lots of sex…guess how…much."

"Nii-san," Alphonse said, sounding shocked. "The…" he stood up and leaned to Ed's ear. "Nii-san, the colonel is here." Ed's expression tensed with confused disagreement. "Nii-san, the colonel is listening to you." Alphonse began snapping his fingers near Ed's ear. "Nii-san?"

"Roy knows," Ed said calmly, "…about it." Alphonse appeared to have no plan of etiquette for this and Roy stepped in gracefully.

"Don't worry about it Alphonse," he said, at his tolerance limit for how much of his sex life was shared with Alphonse while he was present. "What can I do to help you?"

Alphonse wasn't blushing the way Ed did, but his expression was equally as uncomfortable in a weak paralysis of permanent surprise. Softly he muttered, "Ah, um…um."

Ed forced his eyes open when Roy began speaking, and asked, "What time is it?"

Alphonse was on this instantly. "Bed, bed time, let's go." He stood and extended a hand to Ed. "Lean on me nii-san, so you don't have to walk." Ed's hand lifted the slightest bit, in unquestioning obedience, but the action was sloppy, uncoordinated, and too weak to get anywhere close to Alphonse's hand.

"I can help," Roy offered. Ed wasn't that heavy, and he didn't see how Alphonse planned to move Ed move with that grease all over him.

"Thanks, but…" Alphonse said, trailing off uncertainly. Roy recognized this type of rejection from Ed. Alphonse wasn't going to budge on this subject, and this back-and-forth was going to continue until Ed was somehow up, and Alphonse was somehow moving him to the bedroom, and it looked to take a lot of unnecessary energy and time.

"Interesting," Roy said, stepping up to Alphonse and leaning down to Ed. "The liberties which are mine now," he said, getting his arm under Ed's knees, and around his back. Ed responded to this at once, flinching with distant and foggy understanding of the situation, but not fully alarmed.

Alphonse was speechless, jaw dropping completely when Roy stepped back and lifted Ed from the couch. He did so quickly, prepared for the weight of the metal, and the lack of participation from Ed, which made a person significantly heavier. With great effort applied to keep it as dignified as possible for all parties, he didn't swoop Ed up like a bride, but like a wounded soldier, and Ed responded with a seizure of alarm.

He came awake, the way one does in panic, where the body understands consciousness is suddenly an immediate need for self-preservation. Ed cried a startled, "What are you doing!" Flesh arm grabbing at Roy's back. "Put me down!" Automail arm lifting for action, and then falling back with Ed hissing in pain. His body had activated for combat, or perhaps, basic bar-room anger, and in haste had forgotten the wounds, and they took Ed by surprise. "Oh—ow, fuck!" Ed cried, opening his eyes and glaring up at Roy in confusion.

Roy waited until Ed went still. He wasn't confident he could keep Ed in his arms if Ed put up a real struggle, and he didn't want to drop Ed on the floor after watching thin pieces of metal stab into Ed's body the way you'd jab a steak with a sewing needle.

"Hold still," Roy said, when it was clear Ed was listening. He left the couch in a quick, but careful walk, to the bedroom. The smell of Ed's medicated skin was intense and it assaulted his sinuses.

Ed latched onto Roy's tee shirt for support, as if he appreciated the transportation even while it was clear he did not. "Roy?" Ed asked, as if unsure who was carrying him. "Roy? Put me—put me down, put me…" Ed's words were slurring as if he were falling asleep. His medication was still working strong, and his eyes were struggling to stay open.

"Ed, just keep yourself relaxed," Roy said kindly. He crossed the threshold of the bedroom, and the dim lightening soothed Ed's struggling expression.

"Why are you doing this?" Ed muttered. "Where are you taking me?" Roy ignored this. "I can walk," Ed argued, "I…this is…"

"Oh," Roy teased. "Is it embarrassing for you?" He kept his voice down so Alphonse wouldn't hear, and knelt alongside Ed's bed. "I am putting you in bed."

"Putting me in bed?" Ed repeated, as if he disagreed. "Fuck." The hand on Roy's shirt suddenly tightened. "You stayed," Ed said softly, forcing his eyes to open and meet Roy's gaze. "I told you to leave."

"You were rather vulgar."

"I was…in some pain," Ed said defensively. "It's rude for you not to listen to me." Roy gave a soft warmhearted laugh. "But my…" Ed's eyes slipped closed on him. It was clear he was battling his prescriptions, and while not winning, he was managing a decent stale mate. Ed forced his eyes back open and looked to his medicated leg. "And…." Ed considered his shoulder next. "You still…"

"I am going to stay the night here as well," Roy said, moving Ed over the mattress and helping him settle. "I'll be on the couch."

"No," Ed said, latching on like a cat with his flesh hand. "No, here." Ed tugged. "Here, with me."

"Ed, that's not polite," Roy whispered.

Ed didn't care. "Al doesn't mind, he doesn't. _I asked_."

Alphonse came to the bedroom doorway and Roy looked to the boy. Alphonse appeared happy and supportive, albeit heterosexually confused witnessing Ed's more intimate side and undeniably gay traits. He lifted both hands and fanned them toward the beds, as if shewing a small animal, and Roy understood Alphonse was encouraging him stay and felt torn. _He didn't want to intrude._ This was rather abrupt, unplanned, and classless.

"Roy." Ed snaked an arm around Roy's neck and hugged. "Stay."

_How could you say no to that._

Roy gave in, and reluctantly slid into Ed's twin bed. Ed was more than pleased. He curled into Roy's side, hugging Roy's arm in a half asleep stupor. The infantile grip was weak from the medication, and Ed's body smelled of fierce antiseptic Vaseline, but, satisfied, Ed was instantly asleep.

* * *

With movement too near Roy's sleeping body, Roy roused to consciousness in a slow state of peacefulness. He cracked only one eye, and it took a moment to recognize the disastrous bedroom as Ed's, and to remember where he was.

It was early morning, and Alphonse was on the other side of the bedroom awake and drying his wet hair with a towel. He was doing his best to be quiet, and wearing boxers, with a slice of toast in his mouth, was sneaking clothing in and out of his dresser.

The sight of Alphonse so close in proximity, while half-dressed, assault Roy with awkwardness. He felt like a Peeping Tom, although it was clear Alphonse did not agree.

Alphonse was comfortably performing his morning routine with Roy's presence simply injected into Ed's bed.

With Ed snoring lightly, bothered or not, Roy watched Alphonse dress because Alphonse was the fascinating notion of an Edward with all flesh limbs. The light skin tone, and finely strained blonde hair were only the foundation. There was something about Alphonse's skeletal design that said he came from Edward's origin. Roy could see the same balance in Alphonse's body that Ed's body suggested it had before pieces were removed. Like a scientific duplication of the Elric bloodline, Alphonse was almost identical save for the double magnification. Younger, he was already larger in every way. His shoulders were broader, his body was proportionate with healthy girth, and his muscles were sculpting him. More than defined with rigorous soldier training, they were bulbous with vivacious youth. Dressing into his uniform, the stark actuality of Alphonse's stronger and wider frame, which filled the military clothing well, was powerful, because Ed was a pencil thin rod in comparison.

Alphonse turned to face Ed's bed, chewing his toast and fluffing his short hair to help it dry. Roy shut his eyes to feign sleep. He kept still, and Alphonse approached and leaned over Roy seeking Ed. Roy felt Ed's shoulder move when Alphonse shook it.

"Nii-san," Alphonse whispered. Ed twitched when Alphonse spoke to him and Roy became a bit embarrassed with how shamelessly they were laying. He was aware he was splayed on his back, but until Ed moved, was unaware Ed was flush to his side and hugging him like a body pillow. Ed's arm was tossed over his chest, and Ed's leg was between his own. _Alphonse was such a tolerant boy_. "Nii-san, you have work," Alphonse whispered, giving Ed a second nudge.

"Okay," Ed mumbled, entirely asleep.

Alphonse was not convinced. "Nii-san, the colonel is still here with you."

"Okay," Ed slurred.

Alphonse paused, slightly annoyed with Ed's sleep talking nonsense and glanced at Roy's straight face. For a moment Roy thought Alphonse would abandon what seemed hopeless, but Alphonse was experienced and creative. He placed his right hand before Ed's forehead, careful not to touch Roy in anyway, and slapped Ed in the back of the head with his left.

Ed jerked his head up at once. "_What?_" Ed demanded, sounding like a drunk. "Okay."

"Nii-san, I said, are you going to work? Cause you're going to be late."

Ed dropped his head back to the bed, and waved this off. "Don't worry about me, go," Ed said, reaching back and pushing at Alphonse's legs to shove him away. "Go, I'll…go…just…" Ed muttered, drifting back to sleep. Alphonse was not impressed with this and glanced disapprovingly at Roy, the commanding officer who was supposed to be setting an example, before returning his gaze to Ed.

"Nii-san."

Ed gave Alphonse's leg a second push. "Go…Al…love you…go to work."

Alphonse rolled his eyes and left.

Roy was fighting the laugh which rose up his throat. There was something delicious about being the commanding officer in all of this. He listened to Alphonse's military boots tromp through the apartment, before the door opened, closed, and Alphonse had left. Roy let his laugh escape, and with Ed's ear so close, the sound went off like a gunshot for Ed.

Ed bolted up with a loud, "What the hell!" and fell right off the bed

Roy continued laughing.

Looking half asleep Ed sat up, glancing about to confirm environmental sanity, before breaking into a yawn. His hair was a mess, bangs fluffy as if with static, and pieces jutting free of his braid in odd places.

"I am not going to work," Roy said, tossing the blankets down. "Get in." Ed obeyed and Roy covered them. "You're not going to work either." Ed was snuggling into Roy's side and he began a silent chuckling. _The abuse of power and how sweet it could be_. Roy felt satisfied with himself, and stroked a hand into Ed's hair. Ed's arm was back over his chest, and he could feel Ed's bony hips pressing into his side and framing the boner in Ed's pants.

"I forgot what it was like to wake up ragging hard every morning," Roy said. He stroked a hand down Ed's back marveling at the heat. _Ed was very warm_.

"Guess you're getting old." Ed teased, yawning again. "Soon you'll have to start…taking pills just to get it up."

Roy began twirling a piece of Ed's hair that had freed from the braid. "Do you want to fool around a little?" he asked. Ed shook his head. "No?" he asked with surprise. "You feel awfully happy to see me."

"I didn't...brush my teeth or...anything," Ed muttered softly, looking dead asleep.

Roy gave Ed a nudge. "Go do it then," he said. "Leave to the bathroom."

Ed stiffened and instantly became mad. "I take care of myself in my own way," Ed said angrily. Roy silenced with the sudden hostility. "You and Alphonse both on me, I can't take."

"That's not what I meant," Roy said. "Although, you're plenty old enough." Ed's irritation was rising and Roy could feel it. "There's nothing wrong with beating-your-meat in the morning, you don't have to wait it out." Roy snaked a hand down to Ed's pants. "Come on, I'll do it for you."

"No," Ed snapped, jerking his hips to the side. "I said I don't want to right now." The military kept both their mid sections tight, and Ed's skinny body offered no form of resistance. Roy's hand slid directly into Ed's pants. "Stop!" Ed said, sounding startled, but it was too late. Roy reached in and took hold of what he was aiming for. Ed gave a frustrated groan that dwindled into pleasured hostility, and let the indulgence take him. Roy gave a moderate hand job, and kept Ed cradled to him until Ed burst in his pants.

"There," Roy said, feeling satisfied. "Now go bush your teeth or whatever."

Ed pushed up quickly and disappeared without a word. Left in the comfort of the bed Roy fell back asleep and awoke to the flickering of light behind his eyelids. He cracked his right eye as he had before with Alphonse.

Ed was standing at the side of the bed considering Roy with an expression of intense deliberation. Looking freshly showered, and smelling of brisk soap, Ed was wearing a clean tee shirt and boxers. Skeptical Roy was completely asleep Ed asked, "Roy?" but when Roy continued with the façade he was, Ed added a quiet, self-muttered, "Fuck he's cute," and left the bedside for his desk.

Ed took a seat in his desk chair and began rifling through papers. As Roy was aware, the research was caked onto the desk surface, and after several minutes of Ed shifting through, reading, and making notes, Roy opened his eyes and gave an early morning sigh.

"It's ten," Ed said, speaking down to his work before looking over. "Are you serious about us both skipping work?"

Roy gave a nod and sat up stretching. "Dead serious." He climbed from the bed and left for the bathroom.

"Won't we get in trouble?" Ed asked, following. The bathroom was clearing of the steam from Ed's shower and Roy placed a palm on the sink mirror and scrubbed out the image of himself. "Not that I care it's just...odd to have you telling me not to go to work versus you screaming at me for not going," Ed said, leaning into the doorway.

"I never screamed."

"_Fullmetal!_" Ed began impersonating Roy with the same obnoxiously high tone he used for Alphonse's girlfriend. Roy laughed into the sink. "_Every day you are due at work, you are to be punctual! This tardiness is not something I am going to entertain. I am a busy man, I do important things, and babysitting your inane incompetence to grasp the concept of time, will not be entering my schedule! The military is not made up of children, so I seriously advise you stop acting like one!_

Roy was splashing water up to his face, and he turned to Ed, dripping, and half laughing, and said, "I did not say inane incompetence."

"You did," Ed said, confidently. "That was word for word." Ed was grinning, but Roy was secretly impressed Ed was listening so acutely he could repeat conversations they'd had.

"I am taking you out today," Roy said, changing the topic and continuing to wash his face. "Just you and me. Your arm and leg…" he trailed off, trying to choose his words. "Are you comfortable to, get wet?" Last night had him nervous, more than nervous, stressed the way a healthy individual outing with a party suffering chronic disease became stressed.

Ed made a face of disgust. "Of course."

"Can you go in water?"

"That's what getting wet is," Ed said, becoming irritated. "I mean, there are some precautions and steps I take but..." Ed gave Roy a dirty look. "I mean, I took a fucking shower, didn't I?"

"Let's hope so," Roy teased dryly. "After watching Alphonse grease you like a rusted hinge, I expected to wake up tacky and half frosted, like I'd tried to body-fuck a cheap store-bought pie." Ed didn't find this comment funny, and his expression became painfully stunned. _Too sharp, _Roy though to himself. _The joke was too sharp, too on the money for giggles_. "I was kidding Ed," he said kindly. "I didn't mind, if I had I would have slept on the couch." That was the truth. "Go get dressed, and dress for the heat because we're going to be outside.

Ed left, and Roy finished cleaning up before hunting down his own breakfast. Alphonse left a plan sloppily laid out on the counter, with the toaster pulled away from the wall, a loaf of wheat bread open, and a knife in an opened jelly jar. Roy set out making himself toast while Ed busied himself in the bedroom. "You did something very cute today!" Roy said loudly, waiting on his toast to pop. Only a distant thud followed Roy's words, and it sounded suspiciously as if Ed had fallen over somewhere in his room.

"Y-yeah?" Ed called out. He came quickly to the kitchen in jeans and a tee shirt.

Roy shook his head. "No," he said, waiving for Ed to change.

Ed looked hurt before quickly becoming mad. "Don't tell me how to dress Roy. I look fine." Ed looked embarrassed and was frantically trying to pretend he wasn't. The toast popped.

"I am making us toast," Roy said, pulling the knife from the jelly. "Now go change. I mean warm Ed. Shorts, bathing suit, we're going to be outside.

* * *

There we are! How do you like it?

OMG, thank you all so much for the wealth of reviews this last chapter! I had a happy dance every single reading your thoughts! You are all amazing. XD If your reviews were cookies, I'd be fat haha.

I have a vacation coming up in September (will be in Ireland/Scotland/France), and if you guys keep this up! I'll have to think of a way to make it up to you.

Chapter 9: _Waterfront Chemistry,_ will be up next Friday 08/16/13.

…you know that title sounds appealing . : )


	9. Waterfront Chemistry

Foolish For You  
Chapter Nine  
_Waterfront Chemistry_

- mirage -

They drove from Ed's apartment directly to Roy's house, and the phone was ringing when they entered.

Roy started upstairs, and left Ed in the front doorway wearing sandals, jean shorts, and a fitted black t-shirt. Ed dropped his freshly packed book bag to the floor, and called, "Want me to get the phone!"

"Definitely not!" Roy said, heading into his bedroom. His cordless docking station was on his dresser and he hit speaker. "Hello?"

"Sir," Hawkeye said.

"Hawkeye I am under the weather and will not be in office."

Hawkeye sighed, and sounding borderline suspicious, and absolutely unsympathetic, asked, "Are you feeling all right sir?"

"I should be back in the office tomorrow." Roy retrieved his closet duffel bag, and tossed it to the foot of his dresser.

"Under the weather for just one day, hm," Hawkeye said. "I certainly hope things aren't serious." She was being sarcastic, and Roy broke a quiet laugh. "Let me just run over a few things then." There was the sound of ruffling papers. Ed entered the bedroom silently, eyes on the speaker phone. "You're still getting requests for a review of the redesigned arsenal set up, and because you aren't answering, they're growing in number." Roy groaned. "Lots of this can wait until tomorrow, but this morning I also have two separate Brigadier requests to allow a team of forensic minds from Central's Police Department to analyze the victim case files, wanting your opinion. The general consensus is, and I quote, even with the small minds of the CPD, we might be able to better uncover the..."

Roy interrupted with a quick, "Approved, that request is approved," so Hawkeye would not elaborate with Ed in ear shot, and Roy heard her lay down a piece of paper and her pen was scratching out his authorization.

"Also, Havoc would like to be dismissed two hours early, should I grant this?"

Roy tipped his head back in defeat before opening his top dresser drawer. Ed made himself comfortable leaning into the foot of the bed. "Fine. If you don't need the staffing let him go." Roy sighed. _How could you deny a request when you were playing hooky._

Roy heard the small scratch of Hawkeye's pen, before she continued. "Edward was No-Call-No-Show again today as well sir," Hawkeye said, adapting an annoyed tone. "That's twice this week, and fifteen times this month." Roy gave Ed a fast scolding glance, and Ed averted his eyes innocently. "Sir, it's getting to be a problem, and it's going to start affecting his pay." Ed's gaze returned to the phone with new interest. "Never mind his room and board. I don't suggest you let things continue as they are."

"Fine," Roy said with a heavy sigh. "Get him in my office first thing tomorrow. I'll lecture him." Ed shot Roy a dirty look. "Also, start the first disciplinary step. Send me the necessary paperwork. I'll review it with him."

Ed stood up, and mouthed an angry, "Backstabber!" while gesturing lavishly to where they stood, what they were doing, and the fact more work was being missed, this time, upon Roy's command, as if conducting an invisible orchestra.

Roy lifted a hand to silence Ed's complaints, and moved onward. They could dispute things in the car, he wanted to grab belongings and get off the phone with Hawkeye quickly. "How is Alphonse doing?" he asked.

Hawkeye's tone brightened. "Attendance wise, he's fine. His coach says he's fast too. Should I move him from his unit?"

"Yes, and send me paper work on that as well." Roy packed a few pieces of extra clothing, and something to pull-on when the evening became cool. From his top drawer he took the few ribbons he had prepared for Ed's restraints and slipped them into his pocket."I'll take care of that tomorrow as well."

Ed immediately pushed into Roy's face. "What's going on with Alphonse?" Ed asked, keeping his voice down. Roy pressed Ed back a step and began changing.

The muffled voice of a second person was not lost on Hawkeye, and she asked a confused, "Sir?"

"Hawkeye, I am sorry. I have to let you go. I am going to sleep most of the day I think." Hawkeye grunted doubtfully. "Arrange everything and I'll take care of it all tomorrow." Roy hung up and tossed the bag over his shoulder wearing khaki cargo shorts and a dark green polo.

Immediately Ed asked, "What's going on with Alphonse?"

Roy left beckoning for Ed to follow, but this was unnecessary. Ed was a bloodhound, and Roy could feel the boy's eyes burning into him as he descended the stairs. Ed held nothing but concern as if the phrase '_move him from his unit,_' was code for '_cast cruelly into terrible regiment._'

"I am recognizing him with a favorable mark," Roy said, heading down the stairs. With surprise Ed slowed, and then stopped in the middle of them. "You're brother has outstanding scores on all of his tests, and his physical performance leaves nothing to be desired. His companions look up to him, and he shows great qualities for leadership, while remaining humble of his own life-driven learning curve. This mark will yield him more personal and sick days and increase his annual salary by three percent." Roy walked to his door and slid into sandals before looking to Ed.

Ed gave his eyebrows a quick impressed hike before continuing down the stairs. "Oh," Ed said dumbly, looking embarrassed. "Thanks...I guess."

"Don't thank me." Roy held the door for Ed. "I don't promote people who don't deserve it. Alphonse works hard and he's the one who earned it."

Ed went to the car and opened the passenger side listening intently, before suddenly becoming agitated. "Are you saying I don't work hard!" Ed asked, throwing his bag angrily into the back. "I work just as hard as Alphonse!" Ed climbed in and slammed the door behind him.

Roy began laughing.

Ed found this outrageous, and when Roy opened the driver's door, Ed said, "You've got a lot of balls starting this claim, Roy." Roy tossed his duffel into the backseat, climbed in, buckled, and continued his low grade laughter. _Starting what? _"I work just as hard as Alphonse. I deserve a promotion too!" Roy turned the engine and backed out. "Why don't you promote me?"

"Because you're spoiled, and your head is so fat I don't know how your neck endures."

"That's not a good reason to not promote me!"

"But it's not a good reason to promote you," Roy said smiling. "You make too much as it is Ed." Ed huffed a sound of wild disagreement. "You're seven years ahead of Alphonse in accomplishments, political ties, and financial gain. Give it a rest," Roy glanced to Ed, and broke back into laughter. "Unless you feel you need me to start rolling out a red carpet every time you grace us with your presence, those precious fifteen day a month."

"I've given the military a lot of flesh and blood Roy," Ed said angrily. "_A lot, _of flesh and blood."

"But all within the parameters of equivalent exchange." Roy drove through the residential area toward the main roads and interstate. "Since day one you've had all expenses paid, research handed over to you, accommodations made for you, and respect automatically granted to you. I am not going to say everything was fair, but the political turmoil that's come and gone is equivocal to your secret agenda to milk our country's militia for resources and expenditure while seeking only your own self interests." Roy again glanced from the road to Ed's frowning expression. "And I use the word secret graciously," Roy said, laughing softly. "Since at the age of twelve we answered all questions with, something-something-something, to get our bodies back."

Wearing a sour expression Ed turned to watch the scenery and went contemplatively silent as they drove. After ten comfortable minutes he asked, "What was it that I did?"

"What do you mean?" Roy asked. He pulled them onto the interstate, rolled down the windows, and slid on sunglasses. Ed took brief note of the speed limit, their speedometer, and smiled to himself. _They were speeding, badly._

"The," Ed muttered, beginning to blush, "...cute thing."

Roy smiled. "While half asleep, you told Alphonse you loved him, and to go to work." Ed was completely confused. "I thought it was cute," Roy said. "In fact I loved it." Ed shifted uneasily. He saw nothing appealing or even special about that two second exchange, and Roy would not explain how seeing Ed speak so honestly, and with such loving sincerity, to Alphonse, while half asleep, warmed his heart.

"You're weird sometimes, you know that?" Ed asked, frowning out to the scenery. "And where are we going?"

"To my family's lake estate."

"Ooh, an estate," Ed teased, smiling. "Is it big? Estates are supposed to be big, is it as big as the Armstrongs?"

"We own a decent amount of land, but we're just going to the lake house. I'd have to own the damn mountain to compare to the Armstrongs."

Ed snorted with something that sounded like smug satisfaction, and began investigating his surroundings nosily. He opened the glove box and rummaged around the car booklet and maps, before looking to Roy's bag. Ed reached back to the zipper and lifted it playfully, before unzipping the bag an inch, and pausing for Roy to object.

Roy laughed to himself, and kept his eyes on the road. Ed was cute testing his waters.

Ed slowly unzipped the bag, and looked in, before lifting out a bottle of water.

"Yes," Roy said, anticipating the question.

Ed opened the bottle and began drinking. "How far away is the estate?" Ed asked, slouching in his seat with a comfortable smile. The wind and the car's engine brought a relaxing natural therapy, and the fact they were doing this on a work day gave a rebellious tickle of freedom. _They were breaking the rules like radicals._

Roy snuck a glance over and smiled. Ed looked positively domestic with his feet propped up and his hair blowing in the wind. The automail fingers were gently drumming on the window ledge and Ed's look of complete contentment fueled Roy with the desire. _The effortless appeal was intoxicating._

"Half way there, can I pull over somewhere fairly secluded, and fuck you over the hood?" Roy asked, grinning with the mental image. The bounce of the car crossing the shoulder of the road, the smell of the pines in the wooded area, the excitement as they climbed out together, knowing what they were there to do, Ed's skin, his soft hair, the clank of their belts, the heat from the car hood.

Ed was drinking, and he spit forward into the bottle, choking water down his shirt, and coughing. "Stop it! Don't screw with me while I am drinking!" Ed slapped at his shirt.

"No, I said over the hood." Roy smiled. "Screw _with_ you." Roy loved the idea, and he glanced over to Ed, but Ed was glaring at him blushing widely.

"Isn't that illegal?" Ed asked, sounding annoyed and worried. "That's illegal."

"In more than one way," Roy admitted. Ed shuddered. "That really gets me going."

Ed groaned and began rubbing his face before tossing the water aside. He grabbed his bag, unbuckled, and climbed into the backseat.

Curious Roy kept a steady watch in the rear view mirror. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Getting in the back."

Roy couldn't figure out why Ed would do this, and half serious he teased, "Don't whack-off back there."

"What!" Ed said, leaning forward between the front seats. "Are you freaking serious? I am not going to beat off in _broad_ daylight in your_ freaking_ car." Ed sat back angrily and opened his bag. "What kind of water are you talking about?" Ed asked, grumbling irritably while stripping off his shirt. Roy glanced into the rear view mirror and loved the sight of Ed's bare chest with his hair brushing about in the wind. _It was like chauffeuring an Athen's god._"Fresh water, right?For a lake?" Ed asked, pulling a dark blue-bottle from his bag. "I am going to put stuff on my arm," Ed said, looking up to the mirror and catching Roy's eyes for only a minute. "I am telling you now so you know, and..." Ed gave a heavy sigh and rolled his eyes uncomfortably. "I don't want to hear anything about it because it doesn't smell good, okay?"

Roy glanced back over his shoulder. "Is the automail normally this time consuming?"

"It's no picnic, but I've been…exercising my liberties lately, and these are the side effects. It'll pass."

"What's that stuff do?"

"It's going to protect me from the water so I don't get sad and pathetic, and embarrass myself," Ed said, sounding disgusted. Ed's explanation was riddled with hate, but the underlining was a sad and vulnerable tone Roy had never heard until they were together. It was something Ed kept private, and Roy could see Ed thinking about last night. "I know Alphonse probably filled you in a bit," Ed said, sounding both annoyed and relieved he wouldn't have to. "But having automail is kind of like being a diabetic. You monitor stuff all the time, and do your maintenance the same way diabetics take insulin, or things don't go well for you." Roy listened carefully. He had no close acquaintances with automail, and he was learning what appeared cool and almost super human on the surface, came at a high price.

"You're going to be okay getting wet today, right? After yesterday?" Roy asked, apprehensive. He had to be honest with himself. Alphonse would be a small distance away, and if Ed dropped into a condition needing all the provisions the Elrics seemed to have stored in boxes around their place, there wouldn't be much he could do.

"Don't get your panties in a knot Colonel," Ed teased, smiling to the rear view mirror. "The heal time is slow, and it's sensitive, but nothing more. It's like getting over a cold, I am still on decongestants, but I am good to come in to work."

"Ed, your absences really are getting out of hand."

"Let's not do that now," Ed said, shaking his medication as if it were spray paint. "As you told Hawkeye you're ripping me a new one tomorrow, so let's keep it like that." Ed popped the cap off his bottle, and lifted his metal arm looking for a spot to start. "Now I need to do this so I don't become a whining little bitch."

Roy immediately disagreed with this statement, and suddenly felt a need to express his views on the automail. To clear up this uncertainty once in for all. He didn't find the heavy metal prosthetics a sign of weakness or embodiment of disfigurement. It was not the stigma of a handicap, and unlike many who did, he did not find the gruesome attachments, or strength, too intimidating for his sex life. To him, there was nothing less intimate about Edward's metal parts, than his flesh, and there was nothing less personal either.

His youth in the military had shown him the bias of automail. The stark juxtaposition of power-hungry fantasy that surrounded the dual function of automail weaponry. Automail was what some soldiers called: metal-human_. _Meaning, it supplied body parts you lost, a metal-human arm, or a metal-human leg. Yet, it was also a self-made and customized arsenal, carried with you at all times and all places, when others were forced to disarm. It was raw power, a flesh appendage was nothing compared to the metal counterpart in battle. It was a mace, it was a dagger, it was a gun, it was a shield, the list went on, but quietly, discretely, privately, it was the substitute failing to fill the void of what was lost.

No one wanted to carry an unsheathed sword outside of war, and so the envious quickly became the disinterested, and the desired, was suddenly unsought. Where appropriate, automail was unrivaled, but in all other categories it was preferred to none. It was part of a dark quiet world, a science fiction perversion of standard anatomy, and the only memory Roy had of automail, and the blemishing mark it could mean on your life's favor, came when he was buying his first prostitute.

When you were young, prostitutes among the soldiers, and more specifically, getting one back to your room, was a right of passage, an event to brag about.

Perhaps put best by the girls on the street, was the true rank of metal-human parts, when they earned their place among the three dirty questions the women asked: Age, Diseases, Automail.

In the kindest, but most serious tone, Roy said, "I do not think the automail is disgusting." He looked into the rear view mirror for Ed's eyes, and Ed's expression had gone limp with shock. "I don't think it makes you sad and pathetic."

Roy remembered the friend of a unit buddy who had partial automail, and the awkward dance the boy had to suffer just to pick up a hooker. He also remembered the Edward he met in Resembool. The small scrawny boy almost consumed in bandages, confined to a wheelchair, and strapped to more than one bag leaking things in and out.

"Last night," Roy said firmly. "You were not pathetic. You are living with metal limbs, and I don't expect that's easy to do." Roy spoke facing the road, collecting his thoughts slowly and speaking them as they were born. This was the long and short of it, and he looked back through the mirror and captured Ed's eyes.

Ed's gaze was transfixed with intensity, and this saddened Roy. It was silent confession, that some, or perhaps all, of this was true, and Edward might actually be silly enough to forget how absolutely dazzling he was. How prodigy in intellect, resilient in spirit, joyous in soul, and stumble to his knees over something as trivial as an arm and leg appendage. That he might let that festering thought boil into a morbid delusion, so when he looked in the mirror he didn't see the triumphant State Alchemist he had worked to become, but the same small struggling boy from Resembool, stamped physically with the branding of the worst mistake of his life.

"I know there are slighted perspectives about the subject, and some confusion out there but," Roy paused. His eyes moved to the road, and then comfortably back to the mirror and Ed's dependant expression of anguishing hope. "But I am not confused," Roy said tenderly. "I am not confused."

Ed was straight-faced and dead silent.

Left groping in the dark, Roy was struggling to verify if he was being heard how he meant to be heard. _Was he being clear enough, and did Ed understand him? _He didn't want to inflict on Ed the raw embarrassment that came with wanting to hide some of you, or the very real accepting sadness of your decision to hide all of you.

"Ed, I am being serious right now," Roy said, keeping his eyes in the rear view mirror as much as possible. "I want you to know that." Ed averted his gaze to the window. "I think you should be proud you have it. That you had the strength to put it on, and the strength to continue carrying it."

The car went silent, and Roy drove on. Ed didn't speak. His emotional response was unknown, and although Roy understood articulating your thoughts was the first step to anything, the comfortable silence came to itch, and he glanced back every few seconds, becoming desperate for a hint of Ed's judgment.

Alone in the back Ed sat perfectly still staring out the window. His bangs moved in the wind, brushing about his cheeks and forehead, and his expression was calm. His eyes were smoldering with the energy of his mind, but his brow was smooth, and his mouth relaxed.

"Ed," Roy said softly, unable to take the unknown any longer. "Okay?" he asked. "I thought there was a misconception between us, and I don't want there to be." Ed's eyes dropped to his lap. "I am just trying to…" Roy trailed off, and gave a shrug. _What was he trying to do?_ Prove he wasn't bigoted to automail? Clear his slate? Stop Ed's dark thoughts?

Ed's automail hand reached forward and clamped Roy's seat just above his shoulder. The strength and presence of the metal was daunting, and Roy startled.

Ed was on autopilot, he grabbed the car seat for leverage, and climbed back into the front. Gracelessly he plopped back into his seat and then cleared what bit collected between himself and Roy with one shove of the metal hand so he could lean closer.

Roy understood what Ed was doing, and he lifted his right arm from the steering wheel and raised it so Ed could scoot to his side. "Come here," he said tenderly, and Ed did. Roy wrapped his arm about Ed's shoulders and held Ed to him. He rested his head on top of Ed's, and Ed's fluttering bangs swept over his chin and tickled. He could smell Ed's shampoo, and turning to kiss the top of Ed's head, the natural smell of Ed's body in the roots of his hair.

"You understand what I am saying?" Roy asked. "The…way I am trying to say it?"

Speaking slowly, as if distracted, Ed said, "You're just being honest."

"Yes," Roy said. He thought that put things perfectly. "I am just being honest."

Ed slid his hand across Roy's chest and clutched at Roy's shirt. He turned his face into Roy's side and let himself soak in the overwhelming gratitude and cautious happiness these words brought. Mathematically his body was sixteen percent metal, with neither an unharmed upper or lower half. A nervous or opposed lover was not a possibility, and Roy's secret opinion of automail had to be compatible with something realistically obtainable. The thought of taking it off was horrifying, and the concept of putting it back on, infuriating. Matching Roy in wit, skill, and class was something Ed ranked obtainable. Not just equivocally, but possibly with marginal leaps given the circumstance. Your body was your physical fate. It came, unwilling, unknowing, and uncaring of social expectation and desire. In length, in size, color, and fault, you were powerless to drastically alter your physical self, the way you could your mental and social. No amount of facts learned, or skills harnessed, or accomplishments met, could touch the blank canvas of your naked vulnerable being. You were, as you were.

In such an equation, the only absolute was frightening because it was at the very least tolerance, and at the greatest hope acceptance. _Heartwarming was the fact Roy didn't sound as if he were lying._ Knowing that Roy was truly accepting of the automail, felt like the last hurdle cleared, and Ed stayed cuddled to Roy's side, mind at peace under the idea.

After twenty minutes Ed fell asleep on Roy's shoulder and Roy continued the smooth familiar ride pleasantly. It was not until Roy pulled onto the last side street, he realized Ed was drooling on him.

"Ed!" Roy said loudly. Ed's head jerked up half asleep. "You're getting spit everywhere!" He shouldered Ed away, and Ed sat back, wiping at his mouth, before casually wiping off Roy's shoulder.

"This is your..." Ed straightened up, blinking himself fully awake, before scooting to the passenger side and leaning out the window. They were passing a three level, open deck, paradise, and Ed turned to Roy with a look of astonishment, and said, "This is your freaking lake house!"

Roy sighed heavily. "That's a hotel." The lake was well desired by those who could afford to enjoy its company.

Ed sat back quietly and watched the hotel pass by. "Oh," Ed said.

Roy continued down the dirt side road and then onto the gravel drive of his family's two level house at the water's edge. Ed climbed out of the car with immediate appreciation.

"Crap, how much does something like this cost?" Ed asked, holding a hand over his eyes to shield it from the sun and get a good look. "What a location." Central did not have much access to water, and what was had, was sought.

"Ed, put that stuff on your arm," Roy said, pulling his bag from the car. He shut the car door and started for the house. "Tonight I am going fuck the living shit out of you."

Ed retrieved his bag from the car with an odd expression of unease, and Roy entered the house laughing.

Roy walked straight through the lake house and exited out the back enjoying the large windows and sun on the full length deck. Ed followed, but stopped just short of exiting the kitchen.

Leaning into the deck railing, Roy inhaled the fresh lake air with appreciation. It carried the smell of water but was sweet from the trees. Gone was Central's bureaucratic smell of bustling people, stone architecture, and trains. Here there was only nature: damp soil, sap, and wild growth.

"How long does that need to set!" Roy called, staring out at the lake.

"An hour!"

Roy frowned, and went back inside. "An hour?" he complained.

Ed was sitting on a kitchen stool scrubbing a thin grease over his metal arm with his gloved flesh hand. With the sour tone Ed looked up and gave Roy a cold stare before resuming. "What if I help you?" Roy asked, becoming curious. The liquid coming from Ed's dark bottle was looked offensively oily.

"No." Ed shook his head. "No, I do it myself." Roy watched Ed rub his fingers down the long smooth parts of the metal arm before into the crevices Ed was accustomed to. The flesh hand navigated the automail with experienced and skill.

Roy watched, contented for a minute before the thick smell of chemicals made it to him. "Wow," he said. "That does smell."

"I told you!" Ed said angrily, stopping and shooting Roy an exasperated look. "Will you just get out of here? Stop standing there watching me. Go back outside or something, I'll come when I am done." Ed was uncomfortable with the scrutiny and pointed toward the back door with his gloved hand. "I can't concentrate like this!" Roy muttered consent and left, but Ed continued huffing, and yelled a, "Just give me some peace!" before Roy shut the door behind him.

_Good god._

Roy retreated to the deck, lost his shirt, and plopped into a lounge chair. Ten minutes later the sun disappeared diagonally across his body and Ed stood along side of him frowning.

"Lie back and sun yourself," Roy said kindly, gesturing to the lounge chair at his side.

"I burn."

"If you don't stop being negative, I am going to start drinking."

Ed looked insulted. "I am not being negative."

"Then lie back and stop carping so much." Roy regretted these words when Ed plopped down along side of him, and snuggled onto his side. "Geez, you're like a small animal," Roy teased, looping an arm comfortably about Ed. He gave the boy a squeeze with cautious observance of the automail, but Ed elbowed him. "Ouch," Roy complained.

"A what animal?" Ed asked, tone flat with irritation. "A what? I am sorry?"

_Good god!_

Roy pushed himself up with a heavy sigh. "I am getting a beer," he said, turning to Ed. "Do you want one?" Ed was getting comfy in the chair, sprawling out and looking content. He shook his head. "Sure? You seem like you might have a fun side while buzzed."

"No," Ed said, before frowning, "And I have a fun side while sober, ass."

Roy left with a laugh, and afterward they lay in two different chairs enjoying a beer and bottle of water. With lives built of none stop commotion, the appeal of doing nothing was so fulfilling they lay for three hours, and then Roy left to the storage bin on his deck and tossed Ed a life jacket.

Ed had the water bottle balanced on his stomach, and quickly caught the jacket when his abs crunched into an earthquake that sent the bottle tipping indecisively until Ed snatched it. Ed looked at the plastic-foam based jacket, seeming nonplussed. "What's this for?"

"You'll see." Roy slipped his own on, and left the deck.

"I'll see what?" Ed asked, sitting up in his chair. Ed followed Roy, slipping the life vest on and walking to the lawn.

Roy waited for Ed and looked at Ed's open black jacket. To make sure Ed was safe he wanted to strap it together himself.

"I'll see what?" Ed asked. Ed's braid was unable to lay easily on his neck and was bunched up in back. Roy found this cute and he gave Ed a smile before beginning to tether the clasps in the front of the jacket. "Roy?" Ed asked, looking down and watching Roy fasten him. "I'll see what, Roy?" Ed looked skeptically unsure about where this was all heading.

Roy flashed a reassuring grin. "I am going to cover your eyes so you're surprised." Roy took Ed's hand with eager excitement, but Ed yanked it back.

"No," Ed said firmly, adapting a worried expression. "I need explanation as to what we're planning on doing. I can't go in water deep enough to necessitate this. I..." Ed glanced to the lake before giving his head a small apologetic shake. "I am too heavy to swim for that long," Ed confessed with disappointment. "I didn't know you planned for us to go swimming so far out. I would have said something sooner. I am not even wearing my suit."

"Ed, don't over analyze," Roy said quickly, sensing the tension that was quickly shanghaiing their moment.

"Over analyze the density of water!"

"Over analyze anything," Roy said, ending the emerging argument. "We're not going in, we're not going swimming, you don't need your suit." Roy captured Ed's hand again, and Ed tugged for resistance, but didn't take it away. He followed miserably as Roy lead them further down the lawn to the lake's edge.

"Roy," Ed said, with a sense of urgency. "You don't understand. In deep water I _sink_, and you and me aren't strong enough to outweigh steel in the water." Ed raised his automail arm aggressively. "I'll drown, and that's not funny."

"You won't drown," Roy said, smiling with the absurdity.

"Well, I will at least severely disrupt the lake, choking my way to the bottom so I can jettison myself out with alchemy!" Ed snapped, sounding hostile.

Roy broke out laughing. _Who said jettison._ "I promise we won't go in deep water. We'll be near it, and that's what these are for," Roy said, pulling Ed closer by the straps of his jacket. "I promise." Roy gave the clasps reassuring jerks to confirm they were secure with Ed staring at him, looking deeply nervous.

"You understand what I am saying though. You understand I'll sink?" Roy nodded and led them down into the sand his family had deposited about the bank. "So we're not going to go in deep water?" Ed clarified.

"No we're not."

"But we still have to wear life jackets?" Ed asked, masking the cringe in his voice pitifully. These words were an accusation Roy's assurances were a lie.

Roy stopped and sighed heavily. "Ed, let me give you this," Roy said softly. He held his hands up in mock surrender, but Ed glanced uneasily at the lake. "Close your eyes."

"Aw, come on," Ed said, letting his shoulder's sag.

Roy waited patiently, and after a short pause Ed surrendered and obeyed. Roy led Ed forward by the hand until they were along side the tarp covered lump floating at his dock. "Just keep them closed," Roy said, pulling Ed a few steps into the water. Ed's anxiety increased and began creeping toward irritation. "Come to my voice," Roy said, trying to speed up the process. He pushed the tarp off the alchemy shaped invention. Crafted smoothly into an aerodynamic shape, it was made to seat two and used jet propulsion to move. In years to come it would eventually be mass produced as a skidoo, and more commonly referred to incorrectly as a jet ski. Being part of the military did have its perks, and this expensive unproduced contraption was one of them. Roy steered Ed up along side of it until Ed was knee deep and then situated himself behind the boy. "This will sound weird, but I need you to open your legs."

"I am not opening my legs," Ed said flatly, with a tone of annoyance.

Roy stifled a laugh. "I promise Fullmetal, no funny business."

"No."

"Ed."

"Is this filed under your, _it really gets me going,_ category?" Ed asked, bristling when Roy stepped closer and their life jackets bumped together awkwardly.

Roy leaned to Ed's ear and teasingly whispered, "Don't pretend like, right now, I couldn't manhandle you right out of your shorts."

Ed's immediate response was shock, next insult, and then curious interest. "I'd like to see you try," Ed said quickly, speaking through his clenched jaw.

Roy did laugh with this. "Always a challenge." He sighed, pressing Ed forward before wrapping his arms about Ed's waist and lifting him quickly. Ed startled badly and opened his eyes at once. "This was your surprise," Roy said, stepping to the device and waiting for Ed to either cooperate or demand to be set down.

Ed was baffled, but reached forward slowly, and then let himself be placed on to the bike like construct. "What is this?" Ed asked, leaning about to better examine the dark green hull. Ed ran his palm over the smooth plastic surface. "Made with alchemy?" Ed was impressed, and was examining it quickly. Roy ignored this and climbed on to sit behind Ed. The introduction of his weight caused the skidoo to rock, and Ed was looking from either side quickly. "We're so buoyant!"

Roy chuckled. "You don't know the half of it." Roy reached around Ed to the protruding handle bars and pulled a small pin out from between them. '_The Shark,'_ as he called it, purred to life, and Ed startled.

"What the heck is this?" Ed asked, bolting into a half squat with alarm. The jet used to propel the water caused a vibration, and Ed looked alarmed when it penetrated up his legs to his hips. Ed reached for the dock at once, but Roy squeezed the handle and launched them forward. "Roy!" Ed yelled, falling back into Roy's chest with the momentum. Roy sent them speeding gracefully over the top of the water. "How does it work!" Ed yelled, becoming excited.

"Water propulsion!" Roy found it was hard to keep the boasting pride from his voice. "The Alchemist of the Mer made it!" Ed stroked his hand down the handle bars impressed. "I won it." Ed turned to Roy in shock. "Poker hand you wouldn't believe," Roy said grinning. They shared a laugh and Roy released the handles gradually causing them to slow near the center of the lake. With the open water they had easily clocked sixty, and on either side of them the displacement shot up in streams as they traveled. "Do you want to drive?" Roy asked, speaking loud enough Ed would hear over his laughter. Roy was tempted to use the word giddy considering Ed's excitement mirrored a kid on Christmas.

"You bet I do!" Ed said, shoving Roy's hands off the handles. Ed was tickled with the invention, and Roy was trying to think of a time he'd ever heard Ed laugh so genuinely. Ed's laughter was a confident happy sound, starting and stopping abruptly, but engaging.

Ed slid his hands over where Roy's had been and gave a fast squeeze. They launched forward clumsily, and Roy wrapped his arms about Ed's waist. That little test was all Ed needed, and he sent them zipping forward with their speed climbing.

"You like it?" Roy asked, yelling over the sound of their wind. Ed's bangs were flapping along side Ed's wide grin.

"I freaking love it!"Ed said, turning them cautiously in a wide loop before speeding up again. With the speed Roy was careful of his body's weight pulling on Ed's torso and moved his hands back to the handle bars. Ed made room before throwing a tight turn causing them to tip. Their low side submerged sending water up to their knees, before they began recovering.

Ed cut the engines at once, and grabbed at the frame for support. "Fuck!" Ed latched himself on like a cat, and lifted his hands to clap before hesitating as they corrected.

In the dip, Roy had grabbed tight to Ed's jacket and the handle bar he could reach. He was significantly less alarmed considering he'd thrown himself off before, and recovered with a fast laugh. Happily he said, "This wouldn't be the first..." before trailing off with realization Ed hadn't recovered with him.

Nervously Ed lowered his hands from his alchemist stance and exhaled a shaky breath. Ed was gathering himself after such a close call before throwing dark eyes to Roy. "You said no deep water, this is deep water!" Ed said accusingly. "I can't go in this Roy!"

Roy didn't try to deny he had steered them toward the middle, deeper part of the lake, but he had done so confident there was no threat with them on the skidoo. He hadn't caused this close call, and Ed's hypocritical words didn't bring him any guilt.

"Freaking A!" Ed said, moving roughly and causing them to bob from either side. This motion alarmed Ed, and Roy grabbed Ed's shoulders firmly.

"Okay stay still," Roy said kindly. "No one is going in. We're fine. We didn't tip."

"Be we goddamn could have!" Ed said angrily.

"Just stop moving and we'll balance out," Roy said firmly. They sat together rocking quickly as though the lake were a violent storm. Ed's left hand was hanging onto Roy's life jacket with white knuckled fingers curled into the clasps. Roy could feel Ed's stiff posture, and, suddenly felt negligent. Even if unintentional, he was causing Ed true alarm. Ed's wide eyes were staring down at the dark water of the lake like a cat to be bathed. "We're stabilizing," Roy said optimistically. He reached forward and tried the handle but the skidoo only sputtered.

"What?" Ed asked instantly. "Is it broke? I didn't break it. Are we stuck out here?" Ed asked, looking toward the far off shore becoming alarmed. "Roy? Are we freaking stuck out here?"

Roy sighed heavily. "No, we're not stuck." He moved to slide off, but Ed jerked him close by his life jacket. "Relax, we probably sucked something up underneath, " Roy explained. "I am going to pull it out." Ed looked horrified. "I am going to slide off, it's going to rock you a bit, but you won't fall, I promise."

"The way you promised no deep water?" Ed accused angrily.

"I apologize, I should have," Roy paused, before pressing onward. "I should have taken more heed to your words. Just because we're not in it, does not mean there is no chance of us ending up in it, I see that, I could have explained better. I apologize."

Ed receded, but his irritation didn't fade. He closed his eyes tightly and let Roy's life jacket go. "God dammit," Ed whispered, taking hold of the handle bars for dear life. "You're sure, right? You're sure?" Ed asked nervously.

Roy slid forward and planted a soft kiss on Ed's cheek. The sudden affection in a time of alarm brought Ed to sputter a bewildered sound. "I am positive Ed," Roy said, humored. "I can't fuck the shit out of you if you're dead, right?"

Ed rested his forehead to the handlebars and snorted an uneasy laugh. "Let's sure as hell hope not."

Roy pushed himself off laughing and the skidoo rocked about harmlessly. Ed kept himself clamped to it, watching the waterline lap aggressively about the edges. Roy reached underneath from where he bobbed in the water. With the life jacket he couldn't get the movement he needed, and he lifted his gaze to Ed's worried face and tried to look reassuring. "I can't get to the jets. I have to take this off," he said, beginning to unsnap himself.

Ed looked worse with this news, and stared at the dark water. Visibility was only three or four feet beneath the surface. "Careful you don't cut yourself or anything."

Roy slipped out of his life jacket and handed it up to Ed. "There's no blades, I should be fine," he said, before offering a grin. "But if I don't come back," he laughed, "paddle yourself to shore."

Ed scowled. "Stop being such a dick!"

Roy dove under and minutes later came up and took the hand Ed offered him. It was the automail arm, and it hauled him up quickly.

"You're tipping me." Ed warned, leaning back and trying to balance them as Roy climbed on. "Are you okay? Is it fixed?" Ed asked, visually sweeping Roy with his eyes.

Roy wiped the water off his face coughing, and with a nod, and sloppy wave toward shore, Ed began steering them in. Ed kept them at a moderate speed, and Roy cleared his throat with the wind drying his body. "I am sorry to have scared you," he said softly. He planted a soft kiss on Ed's ear and reached up to stop the skidoo fifteen feet from the shore. "This is good," he said. Ed looked confused and ready to protest, but Roy hopped off and the water line made it no higher than his stomach. "Get down, you can stand fine," he said, steering the skidoo forward.

Ed hopped off and sunk under with a splash before finding his footing. He came back and playfully spit water through his teeth, pushing his wet bangs out of his face.

Ed was nothing but a scrawny chest above the water line, with pink cheeks from the sun, and his hair dripping onto his features. It was the simple moments of mundane life in which Fullmetal appeared the most appealing to Roy. The natural setting of the lake and forest complimented Ed's light skin and hair peacefully, and Roy smiled. The serene backdrop against such a determined body of scar and metal was intense. It caused a flare of respect for Ed, and Roy took a step forward and tried to capture Ed in his arms.

Ed sensed this seconds before Roy put his lips where he wanted them, and Ed kissed first. It was soft and chaste, but Ed was hungry and simply restraining himself. Ed opened his mouth, encouraging them to take things further, and Roy obliged. Ed wanted in and came quickly, before Roy could get his tongue forward. With no skill, Roy let Ed win to fight casualties, before pulling off and kissing down Ed's chin and neck. They were feathered kisses, because Ed was wet, and because Roy wanted to be sweet. "I am glad you came out here with me," he whispered.

Ed took on a cocky grin. "Hawkeye would be so mad if she knew," he said, chuckling softly. His gaze was moving over the soft twinkle of sun on the lake water, and the deep green of the trees surrounding it.

Roy snickered and leaned down to bite the tip of Ed's ear. "Not if she knew what we were doing."

"I didn't think you were gay for a long time," Ed said softly, enjoying the attention on his ear by ignoring it. "You act straight."

"So do you." Ed became hurt and pulled away.

"No I don't," Ed said sadly. Ed took hold of the skidoo and helped guide it inward. Its weight was considerable, but in the water it glided effortlessly. "I don't act right," Ed said softly. Ed paused, as if contemplating saying more, before shrugging his shoulders to shake these words away.

"Alphonse is—he's straight?" Roy asked. He had wanted to pitch this question for a while. The boy seemed straight, and he was going after that girl, but Ed was very not-straight, and for Roy this was enough to beg a question about Alphonse.

"Yeah." Ed nodded. "He's straight." Ed's pace picked up naturally as the water line dropped.

"And you're—not bi?" Ed asked, glancing shyly to Roy.

"What if I was?" Roy asked, trying to feel out their conversation. Ed didn't seem overly comfortable with his own sexual preference, but likely wouldn't admit his honest thoughts on heterosexual or bisexual individuals. That sort of conversation was considered rude, and therefore obnoxiously squirreled away under etiquette mumbo-jumbo.

Ed turned to face Roy with the water line mid-thigh about his shorts and his chest and stomach glistening with moisture. "If you were, it would be okay," Ed said.

"Are you bi?" Roy asked. Ed looked irritated with this question. "I mean, you have that girl mechanic Wanda or something. Didn't you ever mess around with her?" Ed gave Roy a cold look of dark annoyance. "You might prefer men, but can you handle a woman?" He had to think that Ed might not even be sure he was entirely gay if Ed was as ignorant at embracing his sexuality as he seemed to be.

"It's Winry," Ed corrected, thick agitation in his voice.

"Don't avoid the question."

"You want me to say I am bi?" Ed asked angrily.

"It's a question Edward," Roy said, leading the skidoo back to the tarp with a sigh. "The answer does not change anything."

"Because you're bi," Ed said accusingly. Ed was wonderful at talking in rounds.

Roy let that question hang the air as he tied the skidoo into place and tested the ropes. "No," he said finally. "No, I am not bi."

Ed gave a small shake of his head, looking dumbstruck. Roy could see Ed analyzing the proof Ed thought he had. "But you..." Ed said, thinking quickly. "Always..." Ed trailed off, and Roy waited to see what Ed would mention. The womanizing? The rumors? His charisma? His suave grins? "Always..." Ed fumbled.

"Always liked men," Roy said, leaving the skidoo and heading to shore. Ed watched with a perplexed frown before it began fading. Like clouds clearing from a sky, Ed's expression relaxed and brightened. Ed's eyes perked up with a bit of excitement, and a small smile came and went. "Oh?" Roy teased, stopping on the sand and waiting for Ed who was following. "Does that little smile mean we approve?

"Shut up," Ed said happily. He walked directly to Roy and took in Roy's tight wet body and old battle scars. "But it does mean I approve," Ed said softly, lifting his eyes to Roy's face.

Roy smiled with a sense of satisfaction and promising forthcomings. "Well, glad I've pleased you," Roy said playfully. Ed grinned. "I..." Roy paused when he heard the ringing phone from his house. "Excuse me, that's my phone." He left Ed in a jog to the deck.

"I need to call Alphonse and tell him where I am Roy!" Ed said, following quickly. Roy opened the sliding door on his deck and entered the kitchen. He crossed the cold stone floor carefully, and made it to the phone by the seventh ring. He lifted the receiver in time to hear the line go dead, and Ed came in quickly, and promptly slipped to his butt. Roy hung up and turned to the Fullmetal Alchemist who was cringing and rubbing his backside where he sat. Roy cracked a smile, and laughing softly, said, "The floor is slippery with wet feet."

Giving Roy a dark look, Ed cracked an eye. "I feel like someone just slammed me in the ass with a two-by-four." Roy crossed the room and helped Ed up. Ed groaned once he was upright and gave himself what looked to be one last rub. Roy couldn't resist, and tried to help. He slid his hand onto Ed's wet shorts, and over Ed's ass, but Ed slapped him off. "The floor," Ed said irritably. "_Hurts_."

"Yes." Roy laughed, watching Ed shift about to relieve the throbbing. "Be careful all about the house. The hard wood is just as bad." He returned to the kitchen. "I'll make a late lunch or early dinner, whichever you prefer."

Ed followed him walking rather stiffly before stopping at the phone. "Can I call Alphonse?"

"Call whomever you want." Roy waived this off, and investigated his food supply. Since the lake house wasn't a permanent residence most of everything was box or can related.

Ed dialed and stood watching Roy with the phone to his ear before becoming excited when the line was answered. "Hey Al," Ed began to speak, but silenced abruptly with his expression sinking from joy to anger. Ed gripped the phone a bit tighter and angrily demanded, "Who is this?" Roy heard feminine squeaking on the other line, and Ed's expression moved from anger to shock and then… jealousy? _Did Ed look jealous?_

"Nii-san!" Alphonse could be heard seconds later, in a happy cheer before immediate conversation. "Nii-san, where are you?"

Ed composed his expression a bit. "Al, why is she over?" Ed asked, sounding annoyed. Roy had opened a few of his upper cabinets looking for something to eat, and Ed's tone of childish irritation brought a smile to his face.

"Cause I was lonely. Don't be a hypocrite nii-san." Ed grunted a breath like he wanted to protest, but couldn't against that valid point. "So?" Alphonse asked, continuing in a more appropriate tone and becoming inaudible.

"Yeah I know," Ed said loosening up. "With Roy, at his family's lake house." Ed laughed at something Alphonse muttered. "Okay," Ed said, before growing a frown as Alphonse continued to speak. "No, I don't think so." The murmur of Alphonse's voice was coming quickly, and Ed shifted his weight looking perplexed and annoyed. "I definitely didn't," Ed said, sounding a bit defensive. "I picked up everything." Ed's tone was becoming mad. Roy found a frozen piece of salmon in the freezer and took it out. Alphonse had a lot to say and Roy was able to unwrap it, lay it in a frying pan, and drizzle some wine over it before Ed began speaking again. "That's fucking stupid," Ed snapped, sounding as if his patience had left him. "Alphonse, shut up, I already said I didn't, why are you chewing me out for this?" Ed asked, sounding stung. "Lazy!" Ed cried. "You're calling me a liar making that accusation, I said I didn't!"

Roy turned around from the stove and looked at Ed. He treasured the knowledge he'd gained spying through the Elric door, and it was times like this he felt robbed he hadn't had a chance to see the brother's argue. He knew they must. Ed and Alphonse weren't saints, and being well-educated would develop strongly made opinions.

Ed lifted his gaze to Roy when Roy turned to look at him, and recognition took Ed's expression, as if he just remembered they were together. "Roy, did we leave the place a mess?" Ed asked, lowering the phone slightly so they could speak.

Roy wasn't certain what was happening, but he'd seen married couples fight, and knew better than to touch anything like this. He gave his head a quick shake and said, "I don't want to get in the middle of anything."

"You're _not_ getting in the middle of anything," Ed snapped, still angry. "I am just asking a simple question."

Roy fell silent, and so did Alphonse. It was apparent Alphonse could hear them, and was waiting, with Ed, for Roy's answer. "Ed," Roy said softly. He wanted to remain the neutral party, but Ed's expression immediately slumped into a look of disappointment and growing abandonment. Roy understood as Ed's partner he should stand on Ed's side with what mattered to him, but he also knew the Elric brothers were like a barbell and stuck together. Each half could not be separated without harm. He didn't want to tip the scale and bring the weight of either, or both crashing down on him.

"See nii-san!" Alphonse said, loudly

Ed covered the receiver and gave Roy a stare which demanded, as much as begged, for reinforcement.

Roy sighed heavily. "Hand me the phone." Ed surrendered it quickly, but still looked uncertain Roy would best represent them. "Alphonse."

"Roy, I don't care you two left the place like this, that's not what this is about," Alphonse said, calming down from his agitation. "Ed and I conduct flawless honesty." Roy studied the way Alphonse kept his civil tone but made his words short and crisp, where Ed became loud when he was angry.

Ed leaned closer to the phone so Alphonse would hear him and said, "I am being honest!"

Roy held up a hand to Ed's interjecting. "Alphonse, to my knowledge, we did not leave the place a mess."

"When I came home it looked like a tornado went through here. Like nii-san had done one of his things, everything was torn all over."

"I didn't do anything!" Ed snapped, unable to keep himself from the conversation while Roy had the phone.

"What things?" Roy asked confused.

"He knows, and that's what it looked like," Alphonse said, with a tone of exasperation.

"I didn't have time to do anything like that," Ed said angrily, speaking to himself, before elevating his voice and asking, "Alphonse, I left at ten with Roy, tell me how I had time to tear up the apartment."

Roy shot Ed a scolding glance. "Can we behave like adults here," he said softly, letting his irritation show. With the criticism Ed's eyes widened, and he silenced, shocked, before he left. Ed stomped out the backdoor and slammed it behind him. Roy sighed, but moved on. "Alphonse, what did the bedroom look like?"

Alphonse's frustration was growing. "Colonel, this is really ridiculous, I have things I'd rather be doing," Alphonse said, sounding miserable and exhausted with the topic. Roy stepped to the window and looked out for Ed. "Just this one question please." Ed was sitting on the deck stairs staring out at the water.

Alphonse emphasized a groan. "The closet was ripped up, and there were papers everywhere."

"I apologize," he said smoothly. He was certain that wasn't how they left the bedroom, and didn't know what to make of this. "Let me invite you to dinner. You and your guest." Alphonse's silence was his shock. "It is going to be relaxed, dress for sand." He let his voice carry his smile, and it took a moment before Alphonse sputtered a soft sound.

"Well, thank you very much but..." Alphonse trailed off, and Roy heard him thinking of a polite way to refuse.

"It would make your brother happy, I think."

This hit Alphonse's sour spot, and Alphonse sighed again. "What time?"

"We're exit eleven. Take your first left and follow the road until you hit Pine Ridge on your right. I am the last house, you'll see the car," he said. "How's an hour sound?" Alphonse grumbled a thanks and hung up.

Roy almost burned the fish.

* * *

And chapter nine, complete.

Chapter 10: _Afternoon Delight_, will be up next Friday 08/23/13. …lol, the title is meant to be a content clue :)

Little bit of fun in this chapter, we can't be serious all the time : ) The read count on this story is very high, thanks so much! I hope that means you're all enjoying.

Please send me your wonderful thoughts. Even if you're not sure what to say, any old thing will do. Think of it like signing out a book at the library (how old school!) Add your name to the little card in the back, and let people know you lifted the cover.


	10. Afternoon Delight

This chapter is rated MA for Mature Sexual Content, Graphic Scenes, and Yaoi Material  
Reader discretion advised

* * *

Foolish For You  
Chapter Ten  
_Afternoon Delight_

- mirage -

Roy continued preparing the fish and made a complimenting garden salad waiting to see if Ed would wander back inside, but he did not. Roy served two plates and cleaned up his mess before seeking Ed out. On the far side of the deck Ed was leaning into the rail and looking out at the wilderness. Roy crept up and wrapped Ed in a hug causing a fast jolt of alarm and quick gasp.

It took years of his training to accomplish stealth capable of mastering an alchemist, and Ed was appropriately rattled. "What are you doing?" Roy asked, ignoring the fact Ed was blatantly outside sulking.

"Thinking."

Roy slid the tip of his nose up the rim of Ed's ear before biting it playfully. "You think too much."

"That's what geniuses do," Ed mumbled. Roy dropped his head onto Ed's shoulder. "I don't know why he was so mad at me." Ed's shoulders were stiff with his emotional anxiety. "Freaking yelled at me."

"He's not mad."

"You don't know him as well as you think," Ed said, becoming annoyed. Roy was silent because this was true. "He's mad at me. He wouldn't have said I was lazy and always..." Ed trailed off, staring out at the water.

"You didn't like him having that girl over." Roy stated the obvious and Ed was silent. "Aren't you happy for him?"

Ed bristled. "Course I am." Ed turned to face Roy. "I want him to be happy."

"She's making him happy Ed." Ed's face buckled like hearing this was painful. "It's a paradox." Roy sighed, leaning into the rail and looking at the water. "You want him to be happy, but you don't want him to leave you." Ed stiffened. "I can relate. Not to the extreme you two share but," he turned to Ed, "nonetheless." Ed's eyes had welled with tears and Roy straightened up with surprise. "I am sorry," he whispered. He was taken with the fact Ed found his words so powerful.

"I am going to be alone like this forever," Ed muttered, closing those wet golden orbs so the tears were gone. "This is what my sexuality has done for me. Like there weren't enough things that didn't work. Walking around like a cripple wasn't enough ostracism apparently." Ed was sarcastically bitter. "_Oh no, not for me_." Roy was stunned. "I'll never have what he's having, right now," Ed whispered, and this _hurt_.

Ed didn't realize how his words degraded Roy. They were Ed's own self critique, but they were also the standard that Ed passed as judgment over the entire world. That meant, in Ed's eyes, every companion he had in life could never amount to that of a heterosexual couple, and likewise, it would be the same for Roy. That based on sexuality alone, they would be forever denied the intimate partnership and romance of their heterosexual equivalents, and what did that really make things now, other than a pointless, fruitless endeavor.

Roy left and went inside. He needed to step away from the moment because his surprise was becoming anger. For a brief minute he had felt sad, and powerfully so for Ed, but what was coming now made him more apt to hit the boy. _Was Ed really so childish? _Ed's narrow-minded and pathetic view of what they could become made him feel furious and suffocated. It was not robbery of grandeurs visions, but vandalism on something that might be quaintly nice. Where they ended up had nothing to do with the offensive suggestion their means, meant nothing but the blemish of an unmodifiable failure of an end.

Angrily Roy stalked through the kitchen before realizing how quick his pace was. All at once he understood he was running physically from Ed because he was mentally, and the thought one tiny alchemist was enough to flummox him, _the mighty colonel_, made him crazy. He spun around on his heels and startled Ed who was just stepping back inside.

"Just what do you think I am?" he asked, raising his voice into a demanding command. _If he was going to be called a handicap than he had a right to know why. _Ed was stunned with the question. He stared blankly looking blindsided with Roy's sudden anger. "Ed, I said, what do you think I am?" Roy asked angrily.

"I—I don't understand what you're talking about," Ed said softly, becoming angry himself. "I don't understand what you're asking," Ed added defensively.

"Why are you here."

Ed went up like a board. "You don't want me here!" Ed cried, dumbfounded.

.

"No, I asked,_ why _are you here?"

"Then why did you invite me!"

Roy felt, momentarily, like he was talking to a nit wit, and he couldn't handle Ed's aggressive tendency to jump to the conclusions of flawed reasoning. He turned and walked to the stairs. He planned to escape to his bedroom where he could lie down and think for a bit, but Ed was not having this.

"Roy!" Ed yelled, stomping forward and blocking his path. "Don't turn your back on me," Ed threatened, lowering his voice to a dangerous tone.

Roy was not intimidated. "Are we dating?" he asked.

Ed was thrown with the topic change. "I—I thought we were." Ed looked worried.

"Then you're my..." Roy trailed off, and Ed shifted uncomfortably when he understood he was meant to answer.

"Boyfriend."

"And I am your..."

"...Boyfriend."

Roy lifted his hands in an outward unfolding motion as if freeing a dove. _And that was it. _And what was so wrong about that.

"So what don't we have, that Alphonse has?" Roy asked, lifting his eyebrows with a bit of humor. "A vagina?" Ed was speechless. "You're fooling yourself if you think that heterosexual people, or heterosexual couples have it any easier, harder, and most importantly, any different, than we do. Ed, what is the matter with you?" Roy scolded.

"What do you mean?" Ed asked, expression tense with nonplussed mayhem. The jaw line was angry, the brow was worried, and Ed was starting to appear as if he were being pulled in one too many emotional directions to handle. Roy found that strangely fitting for the inaccurate rigmarole Ed had been spewing, and worse, appeared to be thinking!

"Is there supposed to be some big difference between us and them?" Roy asked, disapprovingly. "Is what Alphonse has with whatever woman he finds, supposed to be better than what we might have?" Roy took a step to Ed, and closed the distance between them. "There is no difference between the love of one person toward the love of one person. It is beyond humanity, don't you understand? It is something more powerful than any one man, any king, or any civilization." Roy stepped closer, pressing himself against Ed just enough. Ed was wide-eyed, looking overwrought and grieved with indecision. Roy was fillings in the blanks, and he could tell Ed didn't know how to feel about his priority of placing matters-of-the-heart at the top. Was that practical, or even wise? Was that something conceding to life's realism?

Ed gave his lips a nervous lick, and very softly said, "It is not, that easy."

"It is that easy." Roy's answer was immediate. He stepped up, bringing them flush. He stared down into Ed's eyes so fiercely he thought he could see straight through the golden veil into the golden furnace of Ed's mind. It was in there, churning and churning. "Happiness is not the discriminate beast you seem to think it is," Roy said softly. "It didn't forget about you when your mother died." Ed's eyes rushed with tears, but Roy didn't stop. "When your body was injured, when Alphonse was pushed into the armor, and it didn't forget about you when you decided you liked boys." Ed was a statue, arms tight at his sides, shoulders perfectly level and hard as stone. "I am very lucky," Roy continued. "Because not everyone can see it my way, but I swear to you, it is that black and white. You define your own happiness, and no one can take it away from you, so why would you voluntarily hand it over as if they can?"

Ed's eyes were staring watery globes, and inside his attentive fixation Roy could see that Ed was fascinated, no, entranced by what he was saying, but disbelieving. "But it's easy for you," Ed said softly.

"Yes, it is," Roy agreed. "I am gay, and I don't care what others think of me. I'll be with who I want, and do what I want." He lifted his hand and gently pet Ed's right cheek. "I will love who I want."

"But that's easy for you," Ed repeated, looking disgruntled with Roy's confidence. "You're a colonel. It's not like that for me." Ed gave his head a soft dismissive shake, as if he were remembering things he didn't want to. "I come from a small town, where people have small minds." Roy could only imagine what this meant, and he pictured the worst. Villages made of a single strip of shops where people in suspenders spoke with broken accents and targeted difference like it was the plague. "I hide it," Ed said, voice flat and merciless. "That's all I know." Ed was jealous it was different for others, and Roy could hear it in Ed's angry tone. It was envy, because others did not have to hide it. "You might be able to waltz around, pompous and do what you want. You can order people around, your family's well established, and supportive." Ed gestured to the house they stood in with a rude lift of his hand. "I don't have this. I have a brother, and that's it."

"Alphonse minds that you're gay?" Roy had never even conceived of this before.

"_No_." Ed was appalled. "But if I went skipping home holding hands with some—with you, it won't be all la-de-da like it is in colonel world!" Roy considered this for a moment. It was hard to imagine what life would be like unable to skip around, as Ed put it. He had excelled into the upper ranks when he was shockingly young because of the war. It was one thing to heckle an unassuming single person, and it was another to try and heckle a ranking colonel, hero of the war, and famous state alchemist. _No, that was not all la-de-da. _

"So you would change yourself?" Roy asked, with rapt curiosity. "Under those controls? Change yourself?"

"I am not changing anything," Ed snapped, suddenly furious. "I am just being smart about things!"

During adolescence Roy remembered entering, leaving, and lingering in the puberty of a young sex driven young man with friends who spent as much time and devotion to gratification, and the pursuits of gratification, as he did. The difference in desired gender had caused an out of favor feeling, at first, as if not wanting to acquaint himself with women meant something was somehow wrong with him. It had been weird, but to a few he trusted, he confessed his own preference and found his own way. He didn't run around with a sign to advertise, but he didn't tuck his preference away like Ed seemed to have done.

"That's hard for me to imagine," Roy said softly, honestly.

Ed dropped his gaze with a heavy sigh. "Yeah," Ed said miserably. "I am getting that." Ed grabbed the fat screw in the thumb of his automail and thoughtfully twisted it in mock, and in what appeared to be a tick. "Sometimes…" Ed lifted his gaze with a bit of exasperation. "I try to act…I know—I see the differences. I know where they are," Ed said, sounding annoyed. "Traveling around you get a sense for people, and you get an even better idea of what this country expects of its people. It's not easy hopping through towns with a bright red arrow over your head. I have enough problems without my sexual preference causing backlash, and I don't want it taken out on Al either. I, well, I mean, it's just—obvious, in…some of the ways it's obvious. There are, stupid things, even between Alphonse and me. Differences, so, I…just try to fix them." Ed gave an uneasy shrug. "I don't know who I am really fixing them for…but I do it…just the same."

Roy was revolted, and it showed on his face. He rejected this idea in its entirety, and that was when it became clear to him: _Ed had no idea what he was doing._

As sure as Roy felt Ed was trying to communicate something about himself, which was very real to the boy, he believed Ed's desperately indecisive ramblings were the result of Ed concurring many things, but never the courage over his own sexuality.

"Give me your hands," Roy said, reaching out and taking Ed's in a firm grasp. "Do I feel like a problem to you?" He lifted their hands between their chests and held tight. "Do I feel undesirably broken? Or maimed?" He moved both of Ed's hands to his right, and Ed was staring at him with wide captivated eyes. "Do I Ed?" Ed shook his head, and blushed when he reached forward with his left hand and laid it over Ed's heart. "Let me see how wrong you feel." He pet his hand slowly across Ed's chest and deliberately to both nipples. They were tiny nubs and Ed shivered when the right one was touched. "No," Roy said softly, stroking his hand up to gently cup Ed's face. "You don't feel broken to me." He ran his thumb across Ed's cheek. "So what does that mean."

"That…" Ed said, voice barely a whisper. "…we're not broken?"

Roy smiled wildly. "So stop trying to fix us," he teased. "Stupid little alchemist."

Ed dove at Roy, pressing his face into Roy's chest and wrapping his arms about Roy's strong chest. Ed smacked Roy painfully with the metal hand, and the blow was so scolding in fashion Roy could almost hear Ed's thoughts: _Little!_

"I don't think there is anything wrong with you," Roy whispered, petting his hand down Ed's back and loving the feeling of Ed's skin beneath his own. "Everything you do is perfectly fine." Ed was breathing roughly into Roy's body, and Roy held him close. He had been around long enough to know when someone needed a minute, and Ed was breathing like it hurt, and fighting the tears that wanted to come so they wouldn't. "When you first waltzed into my office I thought you had potential. I never suspected you were gay," Roy confessed, chuckling softly to himself. Ed had been energetic, slightly odd, and more time-consuming than Roy cared to admit, but he didn't suspect the boy of being gay. "Then you kept locking me into battles, and that's what caught my attention." Ed had a loud bark for such a small dog. "You were so quick to argue with me." Roy looked down at the top of Ed's head and buried face. "So quick."

"I just wanted to talk to you!" Ed whined into Roy.

"You were a challenge, and you've always been one," Roy said, laughing slightly. Ed would argue with him until he ordered the boy out of his office but not out of the room. It was the only way he could professionally order Ed into what he considered a Time-Out. _You can't stay in here with me, but don't leave, go sit yourself somewhere._ "I used to get so pissed when you kept arguing your bull-headed points." Ed gave an exasperated choke of breath and it felt like a burst of heat into Roy's chest. "Then those odd little signs started appearing, and when we were in the theater I thought I'd just see what you did if I took hold of all your commotion." Ed shuddered with the memory, and the ghost sensation of Roy's hand on his knee. "I figured if you were appalled I'd play it off as a tease, but you weren't." He gave Ed a squeeze. "Now look how far we've come." Ed lifted his head slowly and peeked up. His gaze was dreamy, but behind the fantasy was fear. "We've come too far for two broken men." Roy reached down, cupped Ed's left rear cheek, and thrust their hips together. Ed startled with the sudden movement, and then the very clear sexual advance. His breath immediately picked up with arousal. "Enough of this mushy bullshit Ed. We are amazing, we're fucking amazing, and I am not going to settle for anything but fucking amazing, do you understand that?" Roy asked, completely serious. Ed was spellbound, and thinking quickly. His eyes were bouncing marbles in his face, left to right with rapid thought. "Don't think, just agree," Roy ordered. "Nod your head." He gave Ed's ass a hungry squeeze. "We're going to say fuck you to all the people who so much as look at us wrong, and we're going to feel good as we do it, because we're strong, intelligent, and we can blow shit up."

Ed broke a weak laugh of desperation, of head-ringing relief, of chest-burning pain, and closed his eyes tightly. For a moment he did little more than struggle to catch his breath, as if the race of his mind was exerting him, and Roy's words were physical labor, and the blanketing warmth of Roy's affection was a final resting place. Then he muttered, "I understand."

"I hope you do," Roy threatened. "I mean every word."

Ed opened his eyes slowly, deliberately, and with a tone of absolute confidence said, "And that is why, I understand." Ed's eyes were clear, like two perfect suns.

Roy smiled. "I am going to bind your hands now." Ed fought one of his own smiles, and they both felt the boy stiffen. "Does that get you hot?" Roy asked, happily. He wrapped his arms about Ed and began moving to the stairs, dragging Ed along. "Does it make you hard to know I'll be able to do whatever I want to you?" It did make Ed hard to know this, and Ed's entire system was becoming aroused.

Roy leaned down and kissed Ed's forehead when they made it to the stairs. Backing up them was tricky, but Roy was careful, and focused on his footing while bathing Ed's nose and brow with kisses.

"Just remember that…we're different," Ed whispered, cooperating when Roy managed a stable grip and hoisted Ed up enough to lift him over each stair.

Roy chuckled, a low sultry laugh. "I'll make sure you can still walk after." Ed opened his eyes with a bit of worry even though this comment was clearly a joke. "To be serious for a moment, we've had sex four times," Roy said, breaking a bit of the hot and steamy atmosphere. "The first time in my car, the second on your couch, and the third and fourth in my kitchen. Out of all four, which did you hate, and which did you like?"

"That's getting a little personal," Ed muttered.

Roy laughed. "Let's not start splitting hairs, Ed."

"I hated the car," Ed confessed quietly, before moving on with a smile. "But I loved the kitchen."

Roy was surprised. He thought for sure Ed's favorite would have been the boy's apartment, where Ed was in a safe familiar environment, and part of their sex had been tender and slow. He wasn't expecting Ed's favorite to be the sex-hungry pounding he gave the boy in the kitchen.

"Then, you like me bending you over and giving it to you?" Roy asked, trying to control the surprise in his voice.

If not so aroused, Ed would have been offended in dignity, but instead he answered an honest, "Yeah." He smiled sleepily and went to embellish, before catching himself.

"Go ahead," Roy said, leaning his face forward, and nuzzling his nose into Ed's. They reached the top of the stairs and Roy stopped. He settled Ed back on his feet, grinning widely. "Tell me."

"I…" Ed muttered, blushing hotly. "I like it when you make me." Ed was embarrassed with his own desire. "When it's not painful." This came as a quick after thought.

"Then I will."

Roy brought Ed to his bedroom, which was hardwood and spacious like the rest of the house. Inside was only a large canopy bed, small dresser, and inviting leather couch below two large windows. There was little on the walls and it was dressed in a deep green with dark cherry wood.

"This is my bedroom," Roy said. There was something about stating the obvious, and even though Ed was looking around as if he understood as much, Roy still felt compelled. "Okay." He stepped around Ed and shut the bedroom door. "Strip."

Ed was a bit shocked. "What?" Ed asked, sounding nervous.

"If you like me giving it to you, this is me doing it. If you're willing to submit, then do it." Roy gestured to Ed's shorts and Ed gripped the top subconsciously. "Unless, you'd like me to be rougher." He stepped up and yanked Ed's damp shorts off his boxers.

Ed jerked as if this were painful. He gasped a startled breath, stunned Roy had moved so quickly, and losing your clothing was this easy. Cotton boxers hid erections poorly and Ed covered the bulge in his shorts as inconspicuously as possible while blushing to his ears.

Roy smiled, because there simply was no way to inconspicuously hide your woody. "I should have known you'd like your sex life a bit raunchy," Roy said. "Something a bit painful and adventurous suits the rest of you." Roy stepped up to Ed and kissed Ed's lips. Gently, Ed reciprocated. "But don't let me force you into anything, understand?"

Ed managed a smile that was almost convincing. "You couldn't even if you tried."

Roy laughed and stepped back. He opened his bathroom door, and gestured to the room so Ed would know where it was and so the boy would use it. "Clean up and be quick." Ed stepped out of his shorts and went to the bathroom, but Roy caught Ed's arm before he could enter. "And…" Roy said, lowering his voice to a playful sexy tone. "How do you feel about shaving?" Ed was confused, so Roy dropped his gaze to the bulge in Ed's boxers. "All that fuzz."

"What for?" Ed asked, opposed. "I'll look like an infant."

Roy leaned them nose to nose. "Shave it off, and I'll make it worth your while." Ed looked down at his underwear, and the hand politely in place, with a look of befuddled reluctance. Roy was impatient. "Go." He shoved Ed into the room and shut the door. "There is lotion on the counter if you need it!"

As soon as Ed was preoccupied Roy rushed to prepare his room. He emptied the bed of its pillows, cleared the end table, and moved anything valuable or fragile away from the bed. He had to be realistic, they were both alchemists, and whenever you had alchemy in close quarters, things could get broken.

Quickly he opened the large wardrobe parallel the bed and gave himself a once over in the full length mirror. Then from his pocket he took the few ribbons he had prepared for just this night. They looked and felt harmless, but with alchemy he had made them especially strong. For Edward's arms, and especially the automail, he was going to need something of significant comparison, but ropes and twine not only looked wrong, they sent the wrong message. He wasn't capturing his smaller lover, or tying him up like a game hen, he was seducing the boy, and it just so happened that simultaneously he was going to tie up parts of Ed he knew would drive the boy wild. Like himself, and perhaps the way they were the most similar, Edward loved a form of intrinsic power that came purely from himself. In this way they were both alpha males, and needed to exert their ability and conquer. However, studying the ribbons in his hands, Roy knew they could not both be sexual alphas. It helped that Edward was sexually inexperienced, but in time that would change, and Roy would need to express his dominance fully early on, so that as Edward came into himself he would recognize, and be comfortable with, his role as the submissive.

"Ed, stop hiding," Roy called, slipping the ribbons back into his pocket.

Ed opened the bathroom door looking irritably uncomfortable. "I am not doing it," Ed said miserably. Starting strong as always, but deteriorating quickly to an uncomfortable shrug. "I mean…we can just save whatever you were planning for a different time. I…well…"

Roy ignored this, and closed the distance between them quickly. "Forget it," he said kindly, wrapping his arms about the boy. "If losing your pubs has you this worked up, just keep them." _Ed was ridiculous._

Ed narrowed his eyes with annoyance Roy was using a playful, almost patronizing, tone. "Why don't you shave off yours, big shot."

Roy gave the tip of Ed's nose a quick kiss. "Because, I am not the bottom."

Ed scoffed and gave his shoulders a quick and deliberate jerk to be released. "I don't want us broken apart stereotypically like that." Ed was not impressed with his role. "Just because I am letting you do the penetrating, doesn't mean…" Roy covered Ed's mouth quickly. He didn't want to hear the rest of what sounded like one of Ed's rants, and he wanted to stop that thought there. _Yes, let us talk about the penetration._

Ed was surprised with this action, and flinched when Roy's palm came out and closed over his mouth. "Stop that thought right there," Roy whispered, leaning in so he could feel his breath on the back of his own hand. "Tonight, I don't want to argue about the particulars of our relationship, or what we might do with it in the future. I just want to talk about what we're going to do." He took a slow step backward and took Ed with him. "I want you to remember my living room, and me unzipping your fly. I want you to remember my kitchen, and lying on my counter with your hair getting into the flour as I…had a second course for the night." Above Roy's hands Ed's cheeks were turning scarlet. "I want you to remember what it feels like to have me all over you." Roy stopped backing up when he met the side of the bed. "And I want you to remember what it feels like to have such poor coordination, you're at the mercy of my mouth, my fingers, and what I'll use to rail you." Ed muffled something that was incomprehensible, but it seemed of little consequence. Roy could feel the gentle tremble his words had caused in Ed's body throughout the boy's entire frame. "Edward, tonight we'll play around, and I have a surprise for you." He leaned closer and licked the side of the boy's ear. Ed twitched in shuddering reflexes. "And I am going to bind your hands the way I promised."

Ed was aroused, but Roy could feel Ed become slightly nervous with this idea. Not because the boy doubted he could break free, it was unspoken, but both knew Ed could rip the entire room apart if he needed to. Without exerting significant strength, and tactical planning, there was little Roy could do to house Ed against his will. So it was because Ed may need to ask to be freed. To interrupt their moment with confession his faith, and his comfort level, was not as high as he thought it was. That this, like other things, might need to be a baby step, and in consequence, might be an insult.

Roy lowered his hand from Ed's mouth so he could address what he knew was coming, but Ed surprised him. "You're going to…make me take whatever you're doing to me, aren't you?" Ed asked softly, hot with lust.

Roy was not expecting this type of resolve, and for a moment he floundered. He did not feel he outranked Ed in their relationship, or in bed, and that his decisions were final. For a moment, this statement was intimidating, because it gave him ultimate power, and he was surprised when he found he wasn't certain he wanted it. Then he realized, slowly, that Ed was offering it, and for a boy who had for years been the king over everything in his domain, Roy found this touching.

"Yes," he whispered. _Now he was certain he would._ "I will." Ed shuddered with deep arousal. "So take everything off." Ed didn't need to be told twice and pushed his boxers to his ankles. He stepped out of them in all of his naked glory, blushing to the hilt. "And crawl up onto the bed."

Ed obeyed, and slid on with his comfort level dropping. "Aren't you going to undress as well?" Ed asked, sounding more than annoyed he couldn't take the skin crawling vulnerability which came from being the only one naked, and had to ask.

"I was going to, because I enjoy being close to you while undressed but…" Roy slid onto the bed and knelt before Ed's huddled self. Ed had started confidently, but after only a moment raised his knees in a loose Indian style for privacy… "I decided it might help reinforce the fact you are the main focus, and also, that you really are as defenseless, and at my mercy, as you feel." Roy let his tickled grin wash across his face, and Ed looked as shocked as a boy in Edward's aroused state could. "So I've decided to reign over you fully clothed." Ed's expression buckled with something between surprise, immense reluctance, and intense curiosity. "Now rise to your knees." Ed did so, moving awkwardly in his nakedness until they were facing each other. "I am going to tie your hands to my canopy." Roy pulled the ribbons from his pocket with Ed's gaze studying the thin wooden slats to the canopy frame. "Don't try and get free or you'll break my bed." They both understood this. "The restraints are for show and they're largely a physiological aphrodisiac, understand?" he asked, holding up a ribbon so it hung between them like a red piece of spaghetti.

Ed gave a nod and offered his wrists. "Have you ever done this before?" Ed asked, watching Roy tie his wrists together.

"No."

"How did you think of this?"

Roy chuckled. He guided Ed's wrists to the wooden beam and began tying them on. "I think the lithe frame you have is incredibly sexy, and in my kitchen while you were heavily aroused you started arching your back at one point. I didn't realize until you did that, how much I liked you stretched out." He made the knots strong and then sat back onto his heels. Ed was left kneeling with his hands tied above his head in a traditional captive's pose. Roy smiled. "It inspired me." He reached forward and slid his hand alongside Ed's collar bone before downward over the boy's pectoral and to his nipple. For a moment he caressed it carefully and it moved beneath the pads of his fingers like a tiny pea. Then he pinched it, without warning, and with considerable strength.

"Ow," Ed complained, hissing in a short breath. Roy continued his pinch and pulled forward stretching Ed's nipple outward as much as it could. "Roy." Ed's expression was wincing when Roy let the tiny nub go. It returned to its original state stained a hot pink and with the skin around it looking irritated as well. Roy learned forward and took it in his mouth. Ed shifted his weight with a tiny uncomfortable grunt. Eagerly Roy rolled the tiny sensitive nipple in his mouth before biting it gently. "Roy," Ed complained, looking down and hissing when Roy reached to the left unattended nipple and pinched it. "This wasn't what I was expecting." Roy sucked the right nipple painfully, and gave the left a deliberate squeeze. In response Ed closed his eyes and endured it. Roy gave the right a few more sucks before flicking the left and pulling back. Ed's sensitive nipples were a bright red, and it took a few seconds before Ed opened a slow, endorphin filled gaze, to Roy.

"I am glad you learned to be quiet," Roy said kindly. "Let's keep it that way or I'll have to put something in your mouth."

Ed immediately broke from their games. "No gag and no blindfold," Ed said quickly, so quickly Roy felt stunned and completely dislodged from his focus and the atmosphere they were creating. Ed looked not only concerned with these ideas, but fearful. With the tiniest shake of his head, Ed closed his eyes for a deep breath before repeating himself. "No gags. No blindfolds."

"Are you okay?" Roy asked, before he realized he was going to. Before he realized he would contribute to separating them further from the steamy lust-drunk mentality they were seeping into.

"Fine," Ed said, sounding anything but fine with gags and blindfolds.

"Do you want to stop?"

Ed looked insulted. "No," Ed snapped. "I just don't want gags and blindfolds," Ed said accusingly. "You're getting really fetishy on me, and I am surprised, but I think I can take it. Just don't do anything weird. No dripping candle wax on me, no collar, I am not a dog." Roy sat back onto his heels beginning to laugh. "Don't hit, at all," Ed said firmly, ignoring Roy's increasing chuckling. "And…well no, I guess you can pull my hair some if you want. That you can do."

"Ed," Roy said, determined to keep his laughter at a minimum. "What in the world type of porn are you looking at?"

Ed's expression soured. "Standard stuff."

"That's not standard stuff."

"Well…" Ed shifted, and glanced away with a bit of embarrassment. "You know I have the automail and…that's the kind of stuff that's in the automail stores, so I have some variety." Roy was surprised. "It kinda…does a little bit of everything I guess." Just now, sitting in front of Ed's naked kneeling body Roy realized it made sense that automail reciprocates might have a higher percentage of sexual fetishes considering the makes of their bodies, alteration to their nerves, and medical exposure. "But just because it has all that stuff, doesn't mean I want to do all of it," Ed said firmly, and Roy was thrilled Ed used the word all instead of any. "I don't want to do anything with our alchemy, and I don't want to do anything with my automail." Roy was unfamiliar with sexual automail practices, and even less skilled with sexual alchemy activities. Although he had deliberately fine toned a nifty trick in which he could send intense heat forward from his hands when he was much younger and bedding partners more often. "I want to keep it simple," Ed said, giving his hands a noticeable tug to indicate them. "This is wild enough for me right now."

Roy gave a nod. "Agreed." There was no use discussing the future, because as that came they could get as wild as they wanted then. "And I promise, no gag and no blindfold." Ed looked relieved. "Anything else?"

"No hitting."

Roy didn't know how to take this, but he found the concept an immediate turn off. Just the thought of decking Ed in the face while they were fooling around made him slightly ill, and it showed.

Ed cracked a tiny smile, one pleased he seemed knowledgeable in a sexual area that the great Flame Alchemist did not. "No, not like that," Ed said, giving his own tiny laugh. "I am not talking about fist swinging bar fights, I am talking everything else. No smacking if I don't do something fast enough, or if I do it wrong. I am not five-years-old, and I am not going to be treated like I am." Roy was catching on quickly, and as he realized Ed meant all painless, but dominating slaps were off limits, he was discovering he might very well like to do that.

"Ed, that sounds like it might be fun."

Ed was against this. "No, it will not be fun," Ed said, with a tone of mild anger.

"You don't know, you haven't tried it."

"I will rip my arms down and tear your bed into a splintered pile."

Roy lifted his hands as if Ed had a gun. "Okay, I am not trying to argue. I am sure we can abide by these guidelines."

"I am sure we _will_ abide by them," Ed said, looking skeptically annoyed Roy might still try once or twice if so possessed. Roy wasn't going to acknowledge this, because he didn't feel confident he could deny it. Ed had already said there were a few things he did not like, and did not want to do, and then, when they were forced on him, he really liked them.

"Okay." Roy rose to his knees. "Now, you will be quiet, and close your eyes. I am punishing you for breaking our sexy game into a heated debate of unfavorable content."

"That was not a heated deb…" Ed silenced when Roy slid his hand over the boy's eyes.

"Close your eyes, and open your mouth." Ed obeyed, rather miffed. "You're going to suck on my tongue." Roy closed their mouths and Ed obliged. He took Roy's tongue and did his best and Roy was surprised. He wasn't expecting Ed to accept this idea so easily, but Ed was nearly milking a cow in his mouth when he slid his hands down the boy's chest, navel, and hips before taking his mouth away. "Good boy. Now spread your legs." Ed had his eyes closed, but looked down when Roy slid his palms inside Ed's thighs and pressed. "Spread them wide open." Ed's thighs immediately tightened in protest to Roy's shoving, before giving way the slightest bit. "Wider Ed," Roy said firmly, and Ed didn't protest when he was adjusted so he was kneeling with his legs spread eagle. "Now back up one or two." Ed did so, moving backward so his arms were tied in front of him. "And arch this beautiful back you have so your ass is thrust up like you're in heat." Ed faltered with this humiliating comment. Roy watched the boy's blush spread to his ears, but didn't let this stop them. He guided Ed into position with his hands, and kept them sweeping over Ed's skin in large looping gropes as if he were polishing the most expensive car in the world. "You're such a fine model," he whispered, stopping on Ed's right nipple and painfully pulling it forward again. Ed clenched his teeth, and groaned in his throat, but didn't argue. "I am going to add another ribbon to you Ed. Keep your eyes closed." Roy pulled it from his pocket. It was smaller, thinner, and had a small sensitive golden bell. "I am going to touch your…" he faltered when he found himself unsure of what term Ed used to refer to his own genitalia. _There were so many_. "What do you…" he began, but Ed was reading his mind and cut him off.

"My dick," Ed said quickly, before chuckling. "Don't pay attention, do we?" Ed teased. Gently, Roy took hold of Ed's erection, and tied the ribbon about the base just under the head of Ed's penis. Ed gave a rough breath when he felt something wrap about, and adhere, to an area so sensitive. "What are we doing?" Ed asked, sounding as aggressively intrigued as he did frustrated they weren't really doing anything.

"On this ribbon is a little bell," Roy said. Ed's face was a stove top. "And as you become more and more aroused," Roy slid his finger upward, in a delicate tickle, along the base of Edward's shaft until he reached the tiny bell, "it will ring."

Ed was hard before this, but directly after, Roy watched Ed's entire body seem to tighten, and he could feel the heat wafting outward as Edward became charged with his own sexual tension. "Take it off," Ed said, sounding worried about humiliating ringing bells.

"Why?" Roy teased. "It looks so cute."

"Roy." Ed sounded as if he wanted to be angry, but couldn't manage it under so much provocation. "Roy, take it off."

"I promise its ring isn't disagreeable, and after tonight, you'll never hear a bell ring the same again." Roy slid his hands back up Ed's chest in a slow affectionate pet before becoming aggressive. Once he reached Ed's shoulders, he yanked them up, and seized Ed's head in a vicious grip, startling a wild noise from Ed's mouth. Ed's eyes jumped open, and Roy smiled at the nervousness in Edward's gaze. "Open your mouth," he whispered. "I am going to fuck it with my tongue the way I'll fuck your ass." Ed opened his mouth on command, and Roy dove at it. He crushed them together, brutally frenching the boy with sharp jabbing motions so Ed would be able to feel his tongue penetrating in fast dominating thrusts the way he planned to concur other parts.

Roy meant to tease longer. Considering he had no way of knowing how often Ed would let himself be tied naked to beds, he wanted things to last, but he couldn't. He pulled back, sucking Ed's lip forward in a slow pull, before they both looked down when Ed's bell gave a single dainty ring.

Ed balked with the humiliation of it. "Oh my god, that's awful," Ed croaked, mortified with the small decoration. "Take it off."

"You love it," Roy contradicted, racking his hand up the back of Ed's head, before fisting the boy's hair angrily. "You love it." He descended on Ed's neck, sucking fiercely, and slid his right hand around Ed's body to his back. He pulled them flush together, unable to handle it any longer, and grabbed Ed's left rear cheek in his hand.

"Roy, please," Ed managed. The bell rang again, just as softly, but it was a powerful sound that fired through the room as intently as if it were a steeple bell. Roy ignored this. Aggressively he dragged his left hand down over Ed's chest, down his navel, and beneath his erection to cup his balls. Immediately Ed thrust his hips into the motion groaning. "Yes, finally," Ed snapped, rubbing into Roy's grip. "Stroke me," Ed ordered, sounding almost annoyed he'd been depraved. "Roy, stroke me."

Roy uprooted from Ed's neck at lightening speed, and climbed to his feet. Standing in the bed, with Ed kneeling, Ed's head was at Roy's waist, and Roy stood taller than the canopy, but easily fit through the large space between the three slats. "When you're used like the wanton begging slut that you are, you don't get to make demands of your commanding officer," he said, grabbing the top of Ed's hair, and jerking the boy's head back. Ed stared up at him panting heavily and beginning to sweat. "Now you'll be punished for not knowing your place soldier." He reached down and unzipped his fly. Ed watched him, and before he had it open, Ed swallowed heavily in a sign Ed understood the situation. Roy was only distantly curious if Ed had ever given a blow job before. Fully aroused, he took himself from his pants, and didn't care. He pointed his erection towards Ed's face, and Ed opened his mouth and cooperated when he pushed himself inside. He was unfamiliar with the size of Ed's mouth, and finding it to be smaller than others he'd known, he pushed too far, and Ed broke out gagging.

Ed pulled on his head, trying to yank away while Roy held tight. Ed's expression twisted uncomfortably and retched, but Roy left himself in place. "Learn to tolerate it," he snapped, before looking down when Edward's bell rang. The boy was painfully erect, and although temporarily struggling to breathe and work his throat, loving this. "Yes, you're a little masochist Ed," Roy whispered, rubbing his hand in Ed's hair and rocking the boy's head from side to side. This made it harder, and with Ed sputtering and gagging, he pulled himself back and let Ed slip off him in pity.

Ed broke out coughing and as soon as Roy released his head, Ed was looking straight down and choking toward the bed. Roy watched, waiting to see how Ed would respond once he had his breathing under control. It took Ed a moment, and then he was breathing large gulping breaths towards the bedspread before lifting his head the slightest bit and kissing Roy's pant covered leg. Roy smiled. "Good boy," he whispered, shucking his pants to his knees so Ed could reach skin. Ed was tenderly kissing the inside of his thigh and climbing higher. "Good boy." As soon as Ed managed a few inches, he lifted his head up with his mouth open and tried to latch onto Roy's erection. Roy helped, and guided Ed back.

Ed set his own pace and length taken, but was ambitious, and gobbled forward beginning a quick, and almost frantic speed, that would have made Roy laugh if he wasn't silently in ecstasy. Ed's mouth shot heat into him like an open furnace, and with a tight wince of arousal he stared down at Ed's beautiful golden bobbing head before grabbing it.

"Okay," he groaned, pulling Ed off. He couldn't continue too long like this. Ed didn't want to dislodge, and in confusion tried to fight his grasp, before popping free and panting. "Lower," Roy whispered, pressing Ed's face back into his penis, and sloppily pressing it down. "Suck my balls Ed." Ed tried, and this seemed newer than sucking cock. Ed faltered, hesitant to actually suck and unsure of how hard to do so, before becoming more comfortable. "Lick them," Roy ordered coldly. "Worship them." Ed was trying his best, and lapping like an animal. "They are the balls of your commanding officer, and they house the juice I'll spray up your ass when I take you."

Ed's bell gave a clear jingle right before Ed yanked himself back breathing and wincing as if in pain. This lasted only long enough for Roy to realize Ed had deliberately stopped all sexual activity, and looked to be hurt, before Ed cried out into his clenched jaw in a low, but growing, sound of frustration, that became a yell of relief.

Roy was stunned, and trying to think past his own erection was slowing him down. If Ed didn't, directly after his yell, collapse into a panting heap hanging from his arms, Roy never would have figured it out. "You just came?" he asked, dumbstruck. He looked down to verify, and Ed was wearing the evidence splattered across his chest. "You came without either of us touching you?" Roy was impressed. _He knew he was good but…_.

"I…" Ed was barely able to work his voice. "I couldn't help it." Ed sounded apologetic, and peeked up. "I'll recover."

Roy felt anger beginning to swell. _It was so hot! And now it had to stop!_ "You'll recover?" he asked angrily.

"Yeah," Ed said, still unable to get his breathing controlled. Ed's bangs were beginning to stick to his sweat drenched forward. "I recover…quickly."

"Let's hope so," Roy said, feeling annoyed Ed let loose so quickly, and annoyed he didn't pay attention to how close Ed was coming to the visibly obvious line Ed had. When they were in the kitchen he had slowed down twice to keep Ed from crossing it. "I still planned to…" Roy silenced when Ed's bell gave a little ring. Ed was staring up at Roy, and didn't so much as look at his erection which was already recovering. Roy gave a small giddy chuckle. _Ed wasn't lying._ "I still planned to eat your ass."

"What?" Ed asked, looking immediately concerned.

"Ever had that done?" Roy asked, giving his own erection a slow stroke. He planned to get it back in Ed's mouth at least once more.

"I don't know what that is," Ed said, sounding nervous. "It doesn't sound good at all." Roy chuckled again. _Oh how new we were. _"I want to stay simple."

"Yes," Roy teased, grabbing Ed's face gently below the chin and hoisting it as high as it could go. "No blindfolds and no gags." He angled his erection back to Ed's mouth, and Ed took it. "Now suck on this a bit more." Ed did, obliging with far less zeal. "I just want you to keep it wet for me." He said these things just to see if he could, and just to see what Ed would do with them, but the more he pushed the envelope the hotter Ed became, and soon he left the bed and returned to his wardrobe. Without explaining his intentions, and with Ed licking his lips and swallowing the extra spit in his mouth, he opened the wardrobe door fully, so the bed was reflected in the mirror.

It took Ed until Roy was climbing back on to understand, and articulate, his thoughts to this. "No mirrors," Ed squeaked, sounding and looking blown away with the sight of himself. The reflection was perfect, and displayed Ed kneeling naked and bound, sweating like a race horse. Ed's positioning placed his hips further back then his shoulders, intentionally bending Ed forward, and keeping his backside suggestively extended and accessible. Loving the sight of this, Roy slid behind Ed and laid his face to Ed's back. "Roy?"

Roy chuckled. "Have you ever seen yourself take it up the ass?"

"What!"

"Do you know what I haven't really played with yet?" Roy asked, dragging his face upward towards Ed's shoulders and enjoying the feel of Ed's softer skin against his face.

"W-what?" Ed managed, staring at himself with an expression of transfixed horror.

"Your balls."

Ed looked down at once, but Roy's left hand was already sliding in a slow taunting pass over Ed's hip to his navel. "Roy," Ed said nervously, giving his weight a tiny shift. "Those are allies." Roy increased his speed. "Both of them!" Ed cried. Roy's hand slid down and took hold. Ed was fearful they'd be tortured like his nipples, but so aroused the bell rang twice before Roy leaned down from behind Ed and slid his head between ED's legs.

Ed was panting like a bull when this happened, and his legs began shaking. Roy felt Ed's body move as Ed pulled on his arms to bring them down, trying to escape, before crying out when Roy opened his mouth and gently licked Ed's left testicle. "Stop fighting," Roy teased, giving a second lick. "You love it when I do this."

Ed squeezed his eyes shut with his expression burning. "I am going to come!" Ed sounded as if he were in pain.

"Ed, don't," Roy said firmly.

"I can't help it!" Roy continued enjoying himself. Ed's testicles were appropriate for his build and therefore small. They fit easily into Roy's mouth and felt incredibly delicate. "Roy, please!" Ed cried, beginning to tremble. "Roy, I can't stop it!"

Roy popped off Ed's right testicle. "Ed, learn to control yourself," Roy said firmly. "Don't come."

Directly after these words Ed's bell gave a tiny ring and Ed did come. He sprayed up his chest crying out a loud high-pitched sound with all of him trembling. From Roy's angle this was incredible to watch, and he stared up at Ed's face, which was tipping downward, and thought the boy would crack a tooth with how tightly Ed had clenched his jaw. Then Ed slumped down panting and with his eyes barely able to open.

Roy ripped himself out from under Ed and climbed around to Ed's front. Angrily he grabbed Ed's chin and jerked Ed's face up. "What did I say?" he asked darkly. Ed was still so high on pleasure he couldn't register Roy's activity.

"Oh…god…" Ed croaked, struggling to regain his breath. "It felt…so good but…it hurt…so much."

Roy lifted an eyebrow. _That was new._ He looked down at Ed's shimmering chest and felt annoyed he found it so hot Ed was bathing in his own come. "You want to come?" he asked, dragging his hand up Ed's navel and scooping anything he could. "Can't control yourself?" he asked, bringing his wet and come filled hand up and pushing it into Ed's face.

Ed startled and jerked his head away with surprise and insult, but Roy followed it with his hand. He smeared Ed's come up Ed's cheek and over Ed's nose in a rude shove. "Roy!" Ed cried, trying to shake his head free. With Ed restrained that was impossible, and Roy smeared his hand over Ed's face and left the boy's juices behind.

"Wear it Ed," Roy said. Ed lifted wide eyes looking confused and stung. For a moment Ed was unable to interpret what was happening, and his gaze was begging for reassurance everything was okay. "Wear it," Roy said, flicking his fingers at Ed's face and sprinkling a few beads of come into Ed's cheek. Ed was starting to look upset with this behavior, when Roy added, "It's so hot." The dark side Ed brought out of him in bed was not real. It was a sexual predator with no actual malice, and he loved it.

Ed's right cheek was wet with his own fluid, and Ed looked as if someone had blasted him in the face. _Roy found this so hot._ "Now taste it," Roy said, pressing his fingers to Ed's mouth. Ed yanked his face away in disgust, but Roy grabbed the boy by the hair. "No," he said firmly, lifting his voice to a near yell. "Bad boys who come when they're not supposed to have to clean up their mess." Ed wasn't talking, but he was making every effort to get his head away from Roy's advancing come smeared fingers he could. Harshly, Roy grabbed Ed by the jaw, tipping Ed's face up, and pinching his cheeks open. "Taste it," he said, forcing his wet fingers into Ed's mouth. _It was the hottest thing imaginable. _Ed's face was flushed with color, and pulling against Roy's strong hold. After the blowjob Ed's lips were wet and looked plump puckered in Roy's grasp. "Taste yourself," Roy said cruelly, plunging two fingers into Ed's mouth, and rubbing them about the boy's tongue.

Roy retracted his fingers and left Ed panting, in an attempt to scrape any remainder from Ed's chest. Ed wiggled, fussing gently as he felt Roy's wet fingers wiping up his sticky navel, before forcing back into his mouth. Roy fought to control his own erection, not yet ready to give up, and Ed's bell gave another soft jingle. "Suck my fingers Ed, you know how to do it," Roy whispered.

The sight of this act overwhelmed Roy. Ed was on his knees, restrained, skin sparkling with jizz, face fucking fingers smeared with his own come. Roy prided himself on his stamina, but this was pushing him to his limit. He was going to have to start the conclusion or risk bursting in his pants.

"Taste how bad you want the colonel," Roy whispered, leaning to Ed's ear and biting it. Ed's bell gave a ring and Roy pulled his hand back trailing spit down Ed's chin. "Tell me how bad you want it," Roy whispered.

Ed arched his ass up a bit, face red with humiliation. "Please…sir," Ed whispered, shivering as Roy reached around him and brought wet fingers to his presented ass. Roy teased cruelly, sliding his wet middle finger directly to Ed's anus and circling the tiny entrance. Ed gasped loudly, moaning undignified little cries. "Please sir," Ed choked, looking dizzy with arousal. "Come on," Ed said, strengthening his tone, and arching his back further. "You're teasing me!" Ed cried, sounding overloaded. "You're being a torturous asshole! It hurts!"

Roy chuckled to himself. "What hurts?" he asked, smiling

"My dick!" Roy looked at Ed's dick. It was a deep angry red. Ed looked uncomfortable in his heavily aroused state. "I can't keep this up!" Ed's cock was weeping uncontrollably, and looked tight and painful.

Roy kept his spit covered finger circling Ed's anus driving the boy wild. "You're doing a good job so far."

Ed's bell gave a jingle, and Ed threw his head back. "Fuck!" Ed cried, dropping his head and letting it hang. Ed was breathing so hard his chest was gaining almost twice its girth with each exhale.

"Come on now Ed, tell your colonel what you want," Roy said, leaning to Ed's ear. He bit the top of it before licking the entire thing in one lap of his tongue.

"Sir, please colonel sir, put your fingers in me!" Ed cried, widening his legs as much as he could. Roy bit his own lip to keep from losing it when he heard Ed say this. Sweetly he slid his wet middle finger up past his second knuckle and Ed moaned. "Oh, thank you sir, thank you colonel sir," Ed was panting and began fucking himself on Roy's single digit.

"I like how you said fingers Ed," Roy whispered, wedging his pointer finger in. Ed accepted one finger with pleasure, and anything more seemed wider than the boy preferred to accommodate even though he could. Ed groaned with the stabbing pressure forcing into him.

"Sir…yes sir," Ed croaked.

"Do you like your colonel's fingers?" Roy asked.

"Sir, yes sir."

"Want them to fuck you?" Roy asked, leaning to Ed's neck. He grabbed skin alongside the boy's jugular and sucked.

"Sir, yes sir!"

Roy obliged, and was not kind about it. He began a fast ruthless pumping with both fingers, and Ed grit his teeth, and screwed his expression up as if he were having a seizure, before emptying his lungs slowly in a squeaking noise like a balloon slowly loosing air.

"You're so fucking hot, you make it so hard to even wait," Roy said, frustrated he couldn't somehow make this last forever. Frantically he climbed onto the bed behind Ed, and his sudden movement made Ed, in his delirium, try to grab Roy, and it ripped Ed's left hand free of his restraints.

Roy startled when Ed's arm broke free. The ribbon gave a mighty snap and hung swinging from the wooden slat. Next Ed's hand reached back and snatched Roy's sleeve, but once Ed confirmed where Roy was, Ed's hand went right for his own pulsing erection. Ed grabbed it as if it were an open wound, crying out with his success.

Roy managed to get himself on his knees directly behind Ed, and reached around to the boy's nipple. He grabbed it painfully, and Ed cried out with surprise and protest. Immediately Ed's hand left his erection to protect his nipples, and Roy seized it. "Ed, just want do you think you're doing?" Roy asked, breathing heavily as he pulled Ed's hand back to the broken restraint. He had to take his fingers from the boy to do so, and Ed cried out loudly.

"I have to come! I can't take this anymore!" Ed protested.

"You'll take whatever I give you," he said, keeping his voice low and angry. "You've wanted this since day one, since you met me." He tied Ed's hand tight and Ed was whining and groaning out begs for mercy. "Now, my youngest in command, you're misbehaving taking your hand down."

"Roy," Ed choked, head falling forward continuing to whine. Roy looked at Ed through the mirror as he settled comfortably behind the boy. Ed was sweating profusely with his bangs plastered to his forehead. "Please…" Ed choked, before emptying his lungs in defeat. Ed tossed his head back and Roy grabbed it. He balled a handful of Ed's bangs and held Ed's head tight so he could kiss the boy. He attacked Ed's forehead and temple, kissing frantically, with his free hand sweeping Ed's chest and navel. In the mirror Ed was a stretched Greek sculpture panting like a dog. He felt smooth like wet marble, and Roy couldn't get enough of it. "Please…colonel," Ed rasped, giving his lips a lick and adopting a tone of submission. "Flame Alchemist Colonel Roy Mustang," Ed said, dropping to a low sultry pitch. Roy chuckled into Ed's temple. _Ed was playing games with him! _"Show me what the Flame Alchemist is capable of," Ed whispered, erection tight and painful looking. "…if you can."

"Beg me for it," Roy said, dropping Ed's head and getting a firm grip on Ed's hips. His own erection was still lubricated and he angled it to Ed's waiting rear. "Beg me for it," he ordered, beginning their merger.

"Freaking do it already," Ed cried, sounding frantic before Roy began entering. Ed silenced at once as this occurred, closing his eyes and opening his mouth in a silent yawn. Roy watched this through the mirror using every ounce of strength not to come on sight of Ed's orgasmic expression. The sight of Ed taking his cock was enough to make him wild and he burned it into his memory for his Spank-Bank. "Oh god!" Ed cried, when he was half way in. "Freaking hell!"

"You fucking love it," Roy growled, pressing harder. He was careful of the boy, but pressed Ed to the limit.

Ed winced with the increase in speed, but the hint of pain made Ed flare and he yanked at his arms before opening his eyes and glaring at Roy through the mirror. Ed's gaze was clouded with carnal lust and looked animalistic. Roy had never seen such a look in Ed's eyes, and if they weren't making love, it would have frightened him.

"That's right little boy," Roy snarled, pushing his head over Ed's shoulder and grabbing Ed's chin with his left hand. "Look me in the eye!" He pressed them flush together and Ed was adjusting silently. "Now beg me to fuck you. Beg for it like a slut."

"Pound me."

Roy was not expecting this phrase and he smiled.

"Pound me until we break the bed." Ed's voice was nothing but confidence, and he sounded drunk with passion.

Roy pulled back for coordination. He didn't need to hear this twice. He began quickly, with three easy thrusts to verify Ed's body was allowing him to move without injuring either of them, and he was off. It felt much like jogging your way into a full speed run, and Ed gripped the slat for leverage when he began railing the boy. Their sex was so fast he couldn't speak, and Ed seemed to be in a similar state of engrossed sensory overload. Roy held Ed's hips with white knuckles until his pace was unmanageable and he was forced to take a deep breath.

"Fuck," he gasped, slapping Ed with his entire pelvis. He had not had sex at this speed in years. "You arrogant…little shit," he managed, rhythmically thrusting. "Take my cock.

"Yes sir!" Ed cried, hanging onto the bed for dear life. Three was nothing but the wet sound of his thrusting. "Yes….Yes!"

"Take my cock Elric!"

"Give it to me!" Ed responded violently, and pushed himself back as much as possible. "Give it to me!"

Roy used his thighs and shoved forward. Before this move he took Ed's statement to break the bead as figurative, but when his thrust pushed Ed so far forward Ed needed his arms to catch himself, Ed's automail ripped off his bed and to the sheets. It tore the ribbon and cracked the slat. The sound of the board snapping was like a gun shot, and with the automail free the slat ripped down and brought the flesh hand with it. Ed cried out, deep in his throat, and a sound Roy would later refer to as a roar when Ed slapped his hands down into the mattress and doubled over.

"Don't stop!" Ed cried, reaching back with the automail.

Roy moved his arm before Ed could grab it. He didn't want the automail gripping him while Ed was so distracted, and so reached up and grabbed the boy's hair. He pushed Ed's face into the bed with all his strength without loosing a single beat of his thrusts. "Get down on your knees," he said, panting wildly. "On your knees when I fuck you." Ed moaned in ecstasy. "You like being humiliated, don't you Elric?" he asked, hot with the idea. He kept his hand in Ed's bangs and pulled the boy's head back. "Look at yourself," he ordered, watching himself in the mirror. He looked like a god moving at the speed he was with Ed's slender body bent over in front of his grand size. "The great Fullmetal Alchemist." Ed's eyes were tiny slits below his sweating forehead. Ed was moaning a constant sound which testified to the assault on his rear, before gritting his teeth and tensing up.

"Wait Ed!" Roy cried. He could feel Ed's body turning to stone and the boy's muscles gripped him so tight small specks of light hit his vision. It was incredible, and he broke out coming. "Fuck!" he yelled slamming Ed good in two fast pumps before leaving his hips thrusted forward to the sensation of everything inside him spraying out. The sensation curled up from his toes, shot up his legs, and made his entire abdomen hot. Ed was in a similar state and yelled down to the mattress as he shot into the bed.

The end was so powerful, and stopped their movement so abruptly, they were frozen during, and for seconds after their climax, before giving out into weak uncoordinated heaps with limbs like jelly.

"Oh my god," Roy said, panting hysterically. "Oh my god." He withdrew carefully and flopped down alongside Ed who slumped to his stomach. "That was incredible." He could feel the sweat running off every piece of him. His hair was wet, his palms dripping after hanging onto Ed, and it felt as if he'd just stepped from the shower. "Ed, that was amazing."

Ed was breathing too hard to speak, and lay with his cheek flush to the bed before cracking an eye. "Give…it back…" Ed muttered, sounding as if he'd run for miles.

"What?" Roy managed, running a hand over his face. He wiped off the beads of sweat and pushed his hair back.

"My…large intestine." Roy began a silent laugh, before swallowing heavily and regaining some of his voice. "It must be hanging off your schlong." Ed chuckled, before teasing, "I feel violated."

Roy continued laughing softly. "How many times did you get off?" he asked. He was curious._ How many times could he get Ed off?_

"Nine."

"Ed."

"Okay, four." Ed smiled dreamily and closed his eyes. His heart rate was slowly winding down. "But my dick felt like a volcano! I thought it was going to pop."

Roy stroked his hand over Ed's back, brushing the tangles which had freed from Ed's braid aside. "Do you feel okay?" He had really wailed on the boy.

"Will it hurt later?" Ed asked softly.

"Does it hurt now?"

"Aches a bit," Ed said. "But I'll live."

"I can't believe you let me do that."

"Neither can I." Ed chuckled. "But it was so hot."

"You were so hot." Roy rolled onto his back and took a deep breath. His entire body felt drained. "This is some of the most unique sex I've ever had." He closed his eyes. "I love it. I feel like your colonel, commanding and fierce, but also, your lover, completely devoted to you." Roy scratched lazily at his chest before sliding his hand back onto Ed's back. "You're really amazing Ed." Ed felt slick with his own sweat and Roy loved it. "Truly astounding." Roy turned his gaze to meet Ed's with a warm smile, but Ed was old cold and drooling.

* * *

Okay...so that was chapter ten. : )

_Now clean yourselves up and leave a review!_ LOL

Chapter 11: _Our Happy Hour_, will be up next Friday 08/30/13. I promise all these fun and games won't last too long. Serious plot will return, but everyone has to let their hair down. Even Roy and Ed.


	11. Our Happy Hour

Foolish For You  
Chapter Eleven  
_Our Happy Hour_

- mirage -

Fish was not a dish Roy was in the habit of eating when left out. With Ed looking dead asleep, sprawled out on the deck lounge sunning himself in a pair of shorts, Roy went about cleaning up. He opened the window so Ed could speak to him easily, but Ed was spent. _Crazy sex could take a lot out of you._

Looking for something new for dinner, and now with minimal pressure Alphonse and his guest were going to appear, Roy called a loud, "Are we okay!" through the window, and Ed lifted an arm and gave a fatigued thumbs-up. Roy laughed, wishing he could just order in. "Do you want anything!"

"I feel great!" Ed called. "No worries."

"Well this is unexpected," a foreign voice spoke from the deck.

Roy was examining a can of mushrooms with the skepticism mushrooms were one vegetable that should not be canned, and he looked up. In the window a tall lanky figure, wearing nautical loafers, khaki shorts, and an open dress shirt was standing over Ed's chair. The kind hazel eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, and the normally stubble covered chin was shaved clean. Before Roy could get a word out, his longtime neighbor, and casual drinking body, was stooping down.

Chris Dillinger took his right hand from his pocket wearing the wide delighted grin of one who opens their door and finds a parcel dressed with a bow. In a soft appreciative gesture, he pet over Ed's exposed, and fierce abdominal muscles, shamelessly.

Chris was retired Central Police, with a specialty in homicide, special interest cases, and all around violence. He took a gruesome enthusiasm in morbid violation of human victims, and as a result, now enjoyed the luxurious life style of consulting. It wasn't one, but four bullets which took him from active duty. The perpetrator had been unskilled, but the shots couldn't have landed better if the man were aiming with the deadly precision of an assassin. Not that Central Command's Police Department, or any of Amestris's Police Departments, were really that large or engaged thanks to the iron fist of the militia, and the super power of alchemy, but it was present, and what departments existed were skilled, if not homed to niche traits of crime.

As a result of his distinguished, and hunted expertise, or perhaps, just the naturally playful arrogance he was born with, Chris moved with brash entitlement, and intimately touched the stranger on Roy's deck with the joy of one petting a puppy.

Ed startled out of his chair like Chris's hand was a flaming torch, and Roy felt a quick panic grip him. Ed didn't flail, or panic his way out of the lounge, he moved with aggressive skill, like a soldier. His body flexed defensively to protect itself, but offensively his palms raised for alchemy with instinctive aggression. For just a sliver of time, a moment too small to even encompass an inhale of dread, Roy worried Ed's arm was going to become a blade, or part of the deck, or Chris, was going to explode. Effortlessly, Ed could kill the man, or abolish half the house, and with Roy's mouth opening for the unconscious, _Don't!_, Ed managed to restrain himself. His golden eyes, which had locked on Chris like a target, recognized him for what he was: CIVILIAN.

_Civilians were not threats. Civilians were to be protected at all costs._

"Oh my," Chris said, tone unbothered. He didn't respond to Ed's sudden movement, or slight gesture of attack. He stood confidently still and presiding, as if he noticed nothing, and cared not. The only betrayal was the slow lift of his hand, and even slower lowering of his sunglasses, but this was noticed by Roy alone. "What a jittery little guy."

Roy flew to the back door and ripped it open. In a stern, and cold scolding tone, he said, "Chris!" while lifting an arm in a halting gesture to Ed, who was inhaling with sudden rage, and adding, "Ed!"

Ed's head whipped toward Roy, and Roy shook his own. "Relax," Roy ordered firmly. "That was unintentional." Ed looked like a balloon ready to blow, and Roy could hear Ed echoing in his memories: _Who are you calling a!—You saying you need a magnifying glass to!—Get stilts for!—From way down where!_

Chris took his sunglasses off, a personal sign of intense interest, and said, "Roy, who's this? Can't be the new Boy Toy."

Ed was standing stiffly alongside his lounge chair, shoulders leveled angrily, wiping his stomach as if dusting away cooties, and fuming over the insult, when these words flew out and slapped him. _Wham. _BOY. TOY. Ed lost eye contact with both of them, and stepped back slightly, looking embarrassed and too muddled to know if he was pissed or stung with insult.

After Ed's show of military skill, Chris was not expecting such a sensitive response, and amended quickly with, "Forgive me, I was just kidding short stranger."

Chris was towering over Ed at almost six three, and didn't mean anything by his comments, but they detonated Ed explosively, and Ed yelled, "Roy! I am going to kill this trespassing-asshole!" at the same time Roy said, "Chris, dammit, he's, about that."

"Oh he is?" Chris asked, with Ed beginning a rant. _How the hell did you get here anyway! No one invited you! I'll break your face!_

"I don't need this right now," Roy said to Chris.

"But some of the best things in the world are small," Chris said, beginning to laugh. He was delighted, absolutely delighted with Ed, and Roy could see it. For Chris, he had found the wind-up key inside Ed, and he was eagerly turning it. "Small chocolates, small fruits, and…" Chris moved his gaze to Ed, and Ed stopped his yelling.

Ed leveled a dark glare on Chris, and it was nothing to sneeze at. It was the kind of glare Ed had mastered in the halls of Central, where men with deadly skill paraded about each other in a political battle of wits, like conquering ships in the ocean. _Everything was for the taking, all you had to do was dock._

"Some of the most valuable things are small."Chris said, lowering his voice. "Like diamonds, or gold." He set his sunglasses on his head and reached forward to touch Ed's gold bangs, but Ed slapped him away. "I didn't mean to offend you." Chris offered his hand politely. The man had mouth-watering charisma and tact he turned on and off at will. In full swing, he was the life of the party. "Sincerely, I didn't."

Ed shot a shy glance in Roy's direction, and reluctantly gave Chris's hand a shake. "Edward Elric."

"Christopher Dillinger."

"Ed, he's harmless," Roy said, hoping he wouldn't regret not kicking his neighbor off his property. "He's an old friend, and lake side companion." However calm his voice, he was tense with agitation. Having Chris and Ed on the deck felt like warm and cold air coming together for a storm.

"That's true," Chris said. "I saw Roy's car, and came walking on over. I wasn't expecting he'd have such fine company." Roy rolled his eyes and went back inside. Through the window he listened to their light chatter. "So Edward, what is it you do?"

"I am with the military."

"Oh, is that how you know Roy?"'

"Yeah, we've worked together for a long time."

"They say you shouldn't mess around with people you work with," Chris teased. Roy slapped himself in the face, but Ed was silent. "Office can get…messy."

"I'll keep that in mind," Ed said, tone suddenly dark and sarcastic. "And I am sure Roy can make up his own mind."

"Oh, a possessive lover." Chris's voice softened. "As passionate as he is beautiful."

Roy let the palm he had flat to his right forehead and cheek slid down to his chin. _My god, he should have thrown Chris off the lot, and taken Ed inside._ Wearily he side stepped to look out the window at the deck, and Chris was standing very close to Ed, almost flush to him, and they were staring at each other.

"You have something on your…big strong automail," Chris said, gesturing to the small bit of leaf and twig at Ed's elbow.

Ed quickly pulled it free and dropped it to the deck, and Roy, who had felt for sure Ed's patience would be growing painfully thin at this point, didn't realize that Ed was in fact baffled with Chris's advances until he caught a glimpse of the boy's face. Ed's brow was tense, with astute awareness something about Chris's tone and close proximity was encroaching in an uncomfortable, but unthreatening way, but there was something in Ed's gaze that was storming with disbelief. _Was it possible only Central's women were throwing themselves at the feet of the great Fullmetal Alchemist?_ Roy envisioned Ed trying to walk to the barracks, shouldering obnoxious drooling females away while snarling. The thought made him laugh.

"There's some on your shoulder too," Chris said, looking all too happy to find nature bathing itself on Ed's sculpted body. Ed reached to his automail and brushed it off, before dusting at his shoulder. "Let me help," Chris said, reaching to do so. Ed stepped back, muttering he could handle it while dusting himself free, but Chris was determined. "Oh come on, I won't bite," he teased. He moved around Ed quickly, and lightly brushed off Ed's shoulders, before turning his innocent mannerisms into tentative petting and grabbing.

Roy's gaze narrowed as he watched this. While the deck chairs did collect outdoor bits, there wasn't enough we had to start groping ourselves clean! _Chris was putting the moves on Ed!_ Over the year's Roy had shared stories, beers, and plenty of casual downtime with Chris. He knew the man well enough to recognize flirting when he saw it, and he was stunned that Ed didn't.

"I don't know what you've been up to," Chris said, gently brushing off Ed's shoulder blades. "But you could have had the courtesy of inviting the rest of us to watch." Ed looked slightly annoyed with Chris's help, but with this comment he froze. Roy saw the light bulb pop in Ed's mind, and thought, _finally! _"These are such strong shoulders you have." Chris didn't even notice, and gently grasped Ed's shoulders in a massaging fashion for just one squeeze. "Do you work-out?"

Ed looked back with curious bewilderment. "No," he said, nervousness fading. "Life weights me down, so it's a work-out."

Chris laughed, and said, "And you're funny too? Roy's been increasingly spoiled over the years, but you're a bit ridiculous. Can I call you Ed?" _Roy felt jealous anger flare. _Chris ran his hand down Ed's back to the boy's shorts and said, "There's some on your, well, you're backend here."

Ed jumped forward, and dusted his shorts himself with a fast, "I got that." Ed was thorough, so there would be no need for any more help. "I can cover my own ass, thanks."

"How unfortunate," Chris teased, drawling out his pronunciation stopped dusting his shorts, and slowly lifted an uncertain gaze to Chris, as if he were more apt to believe he was misinterpreting the situation, until he was now, finally certain, he was being hit on. _It was so obvious._

Chris watched Ed's epiphany growing a wide smile. "Nature suits you," Chris said. "I'll bet Roy can't keep his hands off you."

Roy tightened his jaw. _Now Chris was feeling them out! Seeing if Ed was available!_

"How neglectful of him to leave you out here all alone," Chris said.

_Roy started looking for his steak knife._

Ed glanced toward the back door. He had no practice with these types of conversations. What was he supposed to do? _Anyone want to discuss some alchemic theory? I know some great ones!_ "Um…" Ed muttered.

"Modest?" Chris asked with surprise. "Oh heavens, he's modest!" Chris was thrilled. "How nice, such a great body, not a fat head." Chris stepped forward, and gently touched the automail shoulder with just the tips of his fingers. "This is so tough." Roy watched a small blush stain Ed's cheeks. "So, so, strong." _Maybe Ed was blushing, but he wasn't protesting!_ Chris stroked his hand down the automail, and made a show of doing so, before gripping it below the elbow. "It moves so well." Then lower, and Chris was fiddling with the metal fingers. "I didn't know they made them so…incredibly flexible." _He was holding Ed's hand!_

Ed, who seemed to be overrun with the newfound attention, finally managed enough of himself to react, and glanced again to the back door. "Um, Roy!" Ed called, looking at his betraying metal hand.

Roy closed his eyes, and set his frustration aside. You couldn't fault Chris for testing the waters, or Ed for allowing some advances, when you were going to deliberately stand and watch to see how far Chris would push things, and how much Ed would allow. He just wasn't expecting his lovable neighbor to be such a shark, or for Ed to be so euphorically virginesque.

"Hey, Roy!" Ed called, with a bit of urgency in his tone. "What are you doing?"

Roy responded at once. He stepped outside, tossed his arm over Ed's shoulder with a wide smile, and said, "Chris, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

Chris released Ed's hand with a bit of a pout that said: _fine, I see that he's yours._ "I thought it was usual when I saw the car, so I thought I'd walk over. Stressful day at the office?"

Roy felt Ed step the slightest bit closer, and held tighter. He was surprised a stranger's kind attention deflowered Ed into an unskilled doe with such ease. Ed was staring at Chris as if he were mesmerized, as if Chris wielded some special power Ed had never seen up close. More than curiosity, it was caution, as if Ed feared he'd be hypnotized by Chris's charisma, and made drunk.

"I wasn't planning on coming by, it was rather last minute," Roy said. _He had to say something._

"Don't leave on account of me," Ed said, gently shrugging out from under Roy's arm and dropping back to his lounge chair. "I am a guest here as well." Ed gave Roy the quickest of glances, and a wide toothy grin. _From ignorant to greedy in two seconds flat. _Ed no longer looked uncomfortable with Chris's presence, he looked titillated and enjoying of the attention.

"Oh Roy, he's so polite," Chris said, sharing the same cunning smile.

Roy returned to the kitchen groaning. Apparently all he had to do was make an appearance for Ed to become comfortable. Nevertheless, he left the door open behind him, and Ed was talking with the confident and excited tone usually reserved for the topic of Alchemy.

Roy went to the fridge and grabbed three beers. Then he paused, staring at them in his hands. It would be outrageously impolite to bring Ed anything other than the same drink, and yet somehow, under well-intentioned etiquette, he was either making or allowing Ed to drink. _He wasn't sure which was worse. _Ed really hadn't held his wine, and a beer was going to be strong for the boy. This wasn't faint summer lager, it was black, from sturdy malts and baley.

From the deck Chris and Ed broke into laughter, and a radio was turned on. _Great, _Roy thought irritably. He was going to kill Chris. Tomorrow the man's appealing body would be found floating down the river: _Burnt._

Roy returned to the deck and tossed a beer to Chris. "Catch," he said, before looking to Ed. He handed Ed the cold bottle, and Ed took it comfortably like he drank every day. Somehow this entire event felt as if it needed some disclosure, and Roy hooked a thumb over his shoulder and said, "Ed, phone is for you." Ed set his closed beer aside and left. Roy followed, pausing in the doorway to give Chris a strong scolding point. "You're walking a fine line," he warned.

Chris smiled innocently, and gave an elaborate shrug to imply he wasn't aware he was grossly flirting with the adorable half-dressed blonde boy.

Ed abandoned the inactive phone as soon as he noted the receiver was still in place, and Roy caught Ed as he approached the back door. Apologetically he said, "He's had a few beers already, and he's very personable. Let me know if…he gets too friendly with you."

Chris was a touchy-feely person in the best sort of way, but not everyone was a touchy feely person, and Ed had proven to be rather selective.

Ed looked appreciative, but humored. On one level Roy's comment was as misplaced as one warning a master swordsman to be careful with a sharp blade. "Like I can't take care of myself," Ed mocked.

"I believe you can," Roy said, with absolute sincerity. "The question is, can I control my temper?"

Ed laughed and gave Roy's shoulder a slap as they returned to the deck.

Chris was lounging in one of the chairs with his feet up. "This is a great song," Chris said, pointing to the radio. Chris looked like the cat that ate the cannery, and was grinning with his foot bouncing to the music. "Roy and I have rocked out to this song before Ed." Roy took a seat in one of his Adirondack chairs, and Ed took the one closest to him. "What do you do for fun?"

"Alchemy."

"Really?" Chris was surprised. "That's some, that's some high tech stuff." Ed used his automail hand to carefully rip the beer bottle's top off. He took a sip, and hiding his expression of disgust poorly, spit what he'd drank back into his bottle. Chris watched this without the slightest expression change. "Dance with me Roy," Chris asked.

Roy gave Chris a dark stare.

"Don't give me the scary look," Chris teased, lifting the beer and pointing at Roy's menacing expression. "Ed, take a good look," Chris said. "That is the scary look, and he uses it when he infallibly has no intention of doing what you ask."

"That is correct," Roy said flatly.

Chris stood up, emptying his beer, and set the bottle on the deck rail. "I suppose that leaves me no alternative. I'll have to dance with you." Chris reached down and pulled Ed up by his automail arm. Roy made a pass at the flesh arm, trying to intercede, but Chris was fast, and Roy missed Ed by a hair.

"Oh no," Ed said, shaking his head. "I don't dance." Ed lifted his palms in refusal. "Thanks for the offer, but I am a little off-balance, and not always that coordinated." Ed explained this jokingly, but Roy knew Ed was serious.

"Nonsense!" Chris said, stepping back into the open area of the deck and pulling Ed along. "It's easy. Have you ever danced before?"

"No." Ed looked back at Roy, but Roy was working very hard on keeping his expression natural. It was only mentally he envisioned burning Chris alive.

"All right then, this will be your two second dance lesson," Chris said, grasping Ed's shoulders and aligning them a foot apart. "Keep your legs relaxed; get your hips loosened up." Chris dropped his hands to Ed's hips and wiggled them slightly as if Ed were a hinge that might be too tight. The sight of Chris's hands on Ed's hips made Roy tighten his grip on his beer.

"Give me this hand." Chris took Ed's right hand in his left, and lifted it in position for ballroom dancing. "Other hand on my shoulder," Chris said, "And all right Ed, now look at me. I can tell you're a smart one, and I believe you have some rhythm in you." Chris's charismatic energy was infectious, and he was persuading Ed to dance outside on the deck with lightly applied playful effort. Smiling as if he'd laugh, Ed was reluctantly allowing it, until Chris wobbled the swaying ballet of a drunkard.

"Oh man, you're sloshed," Ed said, taking a firm hold on Chris's arm to steady him. "Roy he's…"

Chris wobbled again, waving Ed's comment off as if he were shewing a fly from his face. "No cause for alarm, no one here is drunk," Chris said, managing his footing. "Okay, now pay attention; we're going to step, step, step." Chris took them in a small shuffle to the side, and Ed followed. "One, two, three, one, two, three."

Roy felt his mouth slip open with dazed disbelief. _Ed was listening. Ed was following these directions!_ The sight of Ed doing something as adorable as dancing, and for the first time, with someone else, sent jealousy swarming inside Roy like someone had just taken a baseball bat to the bees' nest of his possessive side. He couldn't deny this jealousy, but angrily, he was furious with his own intrigue. _Why? Why! _Why was Ed responding to this type of affection? Why was Ed responding to this jovial, but superficial, attention?

Ed's response to Chris's dribbling words of encouragement, and bloated confessions of endearment, was as baffling as it was down right irritating for Roy. Watching Ed dance, an enjoyable idea, Roy found heating his stomach to a furnace of anger. _Was it flippant compliments Ed enjoyed?_ Quickly, Roy considered his method of complimenting and recognized his kindest words came during intimacy. During sex he was honest, bathing Ed in admiring praise, but when they were not intimate, he was selective. Overly sweet words were not his style, and he felt stung and betrayed Chris's antics had such influence over Ed! Common words were cheap words, and his rationing was done in the name of quality.

"Ed, there might be some jazz to you yet!" Chris cheered. He was training Ed to move in synch with the music's beat, and if rhythmically handicapped, Ed was mimicking well. "Let's get closer because no one dances this far apart." Chris pulled Ed closer and Ed obeyed, head tipped forward, watching his feet. Chris was counting softly for Ed's tempo, and was Roy green with envy. _This was Ed's first dance._

"Roy, do I look ridiculous?" Ed asked, speaking through a wide smile, staring down at his feet.

"Very."

Ed's smile dampened, but Chris waved this comment off in another drunken bat of air. "He's just jealous he can't dance. Don't let the man keep you down Ed." Ed rekindled with Chris's praise and took notes as Chris started to bob to the beat. With Ed capable of stepping in time, Chris broke apart and began to dance on his own, rocking his hips appropriately, and moving his entire frame in synch. Ed caught on fast, and imitated on a much smaller scale. It was clear he was cautious of what he could do, but he was eager to try. _Ed was having fun, _and he looked over to Roy with a smile, and then looked past Roy at something in the distance.

At once Ed went stiff and stopped all movement with a wild blush spreading across his face. He looked caught red handed, found dancing, and embarrassed he was, when Roy sat forward and leaned around his Adirondack chair to look past the deck to the driveway.

Roy didn't see anything of note until a loud, "Nii-san!" brought his attention to Alphonse who was approaching. "Nii-san, you're dancing!" Alphonse was laughing, and came up the deck steps in stitches. He went directly to Ed with a, "Oh my gosh, Nii-san I can't believe it."

Ed looked slugged with Alphonse's presence and loud declaration. Frantically he ran a hand over his face to remove his blush, and composed his expression to one of irritation. "Ha, ha," Ed said bitterly, taking Alphonse in a quick welcoming hug. "Alphonse, what are you doing here?" Ed asked, sounding more than surprised.

"The colonel invited us for dinner," Alphonse said happily.

"Us?" Ed asked, with confusion. Alphonse stepped back and turned, as if he'd left someone behind, and he had. In his laughing race to tease Ed he had abandoned Cindy, who was keeping a composed pace as she crossed the lawn. She arrived wearing a short pink sundress and sandals looking more than humored with Alphonse's behavior.

"Hi Ed," Cindy said sweetly, giving Ed a brief wave.

"Hi Cindy," Ed responded appropriately. "You look nice."

She beamed. "Thank you." She stepped up to Alphonse and looped her arm into his smiling.

Roy handled introductions quickly. "Chris, this is Edward's brother Alphonse, his friend Cindy, both of you, this is Chris, and he's had a few beers." There was no use lying to the children.

Alphonse shook Chris's hand and Cindy gave another girlish wave. She was a small boned mousy thing, with shoulder length hair and nothing spectacular about her, save the appeal she appeared an average well-natured girl. "Roy, we got lost," Alphonse said, beginning conversation at once. "Twice."

"That's not true, I saw the street, but someone didn't think I did," Cindy said, giving Alphonse tiny scolding elbows.

"And that person certainly wasn't me," Alphonse teased.

Outside of work Roy took a moment to consider both Cindy, who he had never seen in informal female attire, and Alphonse, who had morphed into a casual military employee. Wearing sandals, cargo shorts, and an open casual blue dress shirt around his issued wife beater, Alphonse looked exactly like someone his age in the military should. "I am sorry we probably missed dinner," Alphonse said sincerely. "And that we didn't call."

Roy did not explain they spent the evening have crazy crazy sex. "That's quite all right. Can I get you anything to eat?" They probably would not have stopped to answer the ringing doorbell or the ringing phone.

Alphonse gave his head a shake, but Cindy just couldn't hold back any longer, and burst out with an excited, "Wow, sir, you look so different!" She looked nervous just making conversation with Roy, and held tight to Alphonse. Roy appreciated the fearful respect she had.

"I could say the same for you," Roy said kindly. "Although pink is definitely you're color." He gave her a compliment, and she was just as thrilled as when Ed gave her one. "Please make yourselves at home." He gestured around them. "Don't let Chris frighten you, and Alphonse, guard your brother," he said, leaving to grab drinks.

Ed gave a small outraged, "Hey," but Roy ignored it, and went to his pantry. He planned to fill a cooler with ice and drinks so guests could help themselves. He wasn't going to prepare any snacks because that seemed a lot of work. If people were hungry he would point them to the pantry, he didn't need to impress a slightly drunk old friend and three underage minors.

Pulling the cooler from the top shelf, he heard the back door and leaned out to see who was entering.

Ed was holding the door and beckoning Alphonse inside. "What is it?" Alphonse asked, sounding curious, but Ed's mannerisms were rigid. Ed waited until Alphonse was inside to shut the door firmly, and give Alphonse a sharp eye flare. "Nii-san, calm down," Alphonse said quickly, lifting his hands in surrender. "I know what you're thinking."

Ed smacked Alphonse's hands down, and whispered, "Don't tell me what I am thinking!"

"Nii-san," Alphonse said, speaking slowly. "She doesn't care." He placed strong emphasis on his words. "I," Alphonse paused, hesitating, and then he confessed. "I already told her."

Ed closed his eyes in a moment of spiking agony. "I had to," Alphonse said softly. "Or else she'd be confused. Nii-san, there is no reason to hide it," Alphonse whispered, stepped directly in front of Ed. Ed opened his eyes slowly, and stared at Alphonse with a drained and destroyed expression. "Nii-san," Alphonse said, nervously beginning to whine. "Don't pin this on me." Alphonse sounded certain this was the next step in Ed's emotional-chain, and he was accurate. Already the golden color in Ed's eyes was sharpening with rising anger. "You're the one who decided you wanted a life like this, so you're going to have to take the good with the bad."

"What I do with my sex life is not her business!" Ed whispered angrily.

"And I am not telling her what you're doing," Alphonse said. "It's hard to be with her, and not tell her, you know?"

"You're going to get us in big trouble," Ed accused, keeping his voice down. "No one knows about the colonel and I! We haven't decided to tell anyone, and what if Cindy starts running her mouth!"

Alphonse looked shocked, and with a bit of insult said, "I didn't tell her you were with the colonel nii-san." Alphonse gave Ed a scolding frown. "Give me a little credit, geez. All I said was that you were into guys. I left Roy out of it."

Ed sputtered, looking greatly relieved, but still greatly unsatisfied. "You don't think she'll put it together with you bringing her here? This is such a risk."

"She's not going to," Alphonse said, completely confident. "The colonel's your superior, and it's been that way for years. It will only seem suspicious if we make it suspicious. To the public eye you're not spending anymore time together. It's not conspicuous, your routine looks unchanged," Alphonse said, before growing a slow playful smile. "Even though," Alphonse teased, beginning a small laugh. "Things are much different, and you guys seem very busy doing things."

Ed put a stop to this with a quick, "I got it."

"You know, nii-san? How busy you are now?"

"Stop it, we're in public."

"I can use hand gestures to explain," Alphonse said, beginning to laugh, while discretely performing several lewd motions until Ed attacked him, secured him in a headlock, and Alphonse yelled to be released.

Ed obliged, with Alphonse shoving at the metal noose about his neck, and stepped back, anger receding. Alphonse straightened up, rubbing at his neck and catching his breath, before saying, "Just be yourself, she's going to like you."

"This is a bunch of fucking bullshit," Ed complained dully, sinking to an expression of gloom. "I am trying to spend time with Roy and it's turning into a fucking zoo. Now I have to worry about putting up a good image, and make effort so she likes me, when I am supposed to be relaxing."

Alphonse slapped a hand to Ed's left shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. "You don't need to make effort nii-san." Alphonse's tone was genuinely caring, and he gave Ed's troubled expression a soft reassuring smile. "She's going to like you," Alphonse insisted. Ed's skepticism didn't lift, and Ed's silence spoke volumes. _What if she doesn't? What if it does not work out that way? What will you do? _"Well," Alphonse said, with a lighthearted tone of deep sincerity he said, "If she doesn't like you, then she can't like me." Alphonse was serious only long enough for Ed to relax. Ed gave a heavy sigh and rolled his shoulders, as if breaking away from the topic. Alphonse came back quick, and used his grip to playfully shake Ed's shoulder while demanding, "Now, tell me I am a good brother." Alphonse laughed. "I like to hear it."

Ed pushed free of Alphonse's grip smiling, and said, "Go away." He looked to the deck uneasily, and Cindy was in conversation with Chris. Not the safest of events. Softly, and still sounding doubtful, he muttered, "I guess it…might all work out."

"That's right," Alphonse said cheerfully, wrapping Ed in a large hug.

Ed groaned with the tight embrace. "Okay," Ed complained. "Enough hugging." Ed squirmed, but Alphonse was enjoying the embrace and began affectionately rubbing the side of his head into Ed's. "Al, I don't want that guy to get the wrong idea about you. Stop hugging me."

Alphonse released Ed with a quick laugh. "Nii-san, he's going to catch on. I mean, what is Cindy? The chauffeur?

Ed gave Alphonse a harmless shove, and Alphonse shot out the door striking conversation with Cindy. Ed watched this looking skeptically uncomfortable with the evolution of the night, but he was abiding carefully. After watching Alphonse go to Cindy's side and join conversation he looked over to Roy, and smiled softly with Roy's head leaning out of the pantry.

"Spying on me?" Ed asked kindly. _He didn't know the half of it._

Roy pulled the cooler off the shelf and said, "Stop making me want to burn my guests."

Ed laughed, and approached with a doubtful, "What?" Roy pointed to the refrigerator for drinks and ice. "I was right in front of you."

"Get ice, and drinks."

"It was just one dance." Ed went to the refrigerator and looked in.

"I am a jealous man, with a beautiful lover," Roy said. Ed looked over, and his gaze softened. Roy was tempted to describe it as a swoon, but there was something about being so sentimental in language that irritated his unwillingness for compliments. He wasn't out to state the obvious, and repeat his opinions into daunting ear chores. He was direct. "I don't want anyone touching what is mine." Hoping Ed would appreciate it as much as outdoor-deck parlor tricks, he had no plans to change.

Ed smiled with understanding, and Roy could sense it was also agreement, but added, "If we're going to be exclusive then the same rules apply to us both." Ed nodded. "I can't have my partner off dancing with other men."

Ed blushed. "Okay."

"Edward." Roy wanted this taken seriously.

"I said okay," Ed said, keeping his tone jovial. "Okay?" Ed gathered some bottled water in his arms, and returned to Roy's cooler. He dropped the bottles in and then gave Roy's cheek a quick kiss.

"That includes Alphonse," Roy teased. Ed broke into joyful baritone giggling. "Every time you guys have one of your, _moments, _I want to kick him in the back of the knee."

Ed gave Roy a kind, but serious look, and said, "I would not advise that."

Roy added ice to the cooler, and brought it to the deck. He dropped it alongside the backdoor, and announced, "Drinks." _There._

Chris was lounging in one of the Adirondack chairs, but Alphonse and Cindy were still up. "Colonel, this place is awesome," Cindy said, sounding thrilled and excited just to be included.

"Thank you. It's owned by my family."

"Do you own a boat colonel?" Alphonse asked, casually leaning into the deck railing, and indicating the shadowed lump of the docked skidoo. Roy was learning Alphonse was just as curious as Ed. Only where Ed was blunt, Alphonse was subtle. _Roy made mental note not to forget this._

"Come on Al, I'll show you," Ed said, walking off the deck waving for Alphonse to join. Cindy followed, clinging to Alphonse like a cute decoration.

Roy reclaimed his beer and assumed Alphonse's casual lean into the deck railing. The Elric brothers were walking down his lawn, looking nearly the same height and almost identical in the dimming evening light. Ed was a hand talker when excited, and Roy could see the boy rambling.

Chris stood and joined Roy. Tipping Ed's full beer to his lips, he sang a quiet, "He's a cutie pie." Now that the coast was clear Roy was expecting some commentary, and he sighed with mental fatigue when he contemplated the political hemorrhage that was his relationship with Ed. "Oh Roy, don't give me that melancholy sob when you sit him out here half-dressed like a little roll of sushi." Chris took a long swig. "I was a little surprised," he admitted honestly, lowering his voice. "You didn't seem to be looking for company." _And wasn't this the truth._ "Was he in an accident?"

Roy stared silently out at the water. After a long pause he said, "I guess you could say that." _Hadn't Ed been some sort of accident since day one?_

Ed had waded into knee-high water to show Alphonse what he could of the skidoo. Very much intrigued Alphonse was at Ed's side, talking, and petting an appreciative hand over what he could see until Ed stuck out a leg, and tripped Alphonse. Cindy, who stood on the bank watching the boys happily, screamed faintly, but Ed broke out laughing.

Roy followed, and Chris, who had not been watching the boys, asked, "What?" He looked to the sudden commotion over by the skidoo. "What's funny?"

Alphonse scrambled up dripping wet, and the minute he was on his feet, Ed ran. Ed was laughing too hard to manage adequate speed, and it was obvious the automail was putting up a fit of water resistance, filtering, capturing, and holding it. Alphonse charged after Ed, and in a dive tackle, pummeled them both beneath the surface. Watching with a perplexed and drunk expression, Chris tipped his beer bottle toward the lake and asked, "Did he shove his brother into the water?"

"Yes," Roy said, laughing. "Yes he did."

"Oh Roy." Chris broke into sloppy intoxicated snorts and sputtering laughter. "You always did like 'em fiery."

Ed was getting mad when Alphonse dunked him under for a third time, but Alphonse was laughing too hard to care. "Al!" Ed barked, scurrying away and sitting in the lake with the water up to his chest. "Enough!" Alphonse pulled Ed up, patting at Ed's chest and shoulder in dopey thumping falls of his palm while he laughed. Although wet, he was in high spirits, and Ed was wiping his face when Alphonse slung an arm around Ed's neck, and they began making their way from the lake.

Cindy ran to Alphonse like the boy was coming home from a war. "Edward, you're horrible!" They could hear her on the deck. Ed responded with a sly grin and witty remark, and Alphonse gave Ed a playful shove. "But now you're all wet!" Cindy was not convinced.

The boys made an attempt to dry themselves. Ed grabbed at the bottom of his shorts and squeezed them out the best he could. The material was heavy and Alphonse's shorts were dripping heavily.

Continuing slapdash snickering, Chris added, "He's even cuter wet." Roy groaned audibly. _He thought these comments were finished._ "Because now you need to dry him off, and change his outfit."

"He's not a poodle."

"Who dresses their poodles?" Chris teased, watching Ed wring out the legs of his shorts. On his left this raised the hem of his shorts and the automail port and flesh of the juncture became visible. "God," Chris said softly. "What the hell happened to his limbs?" _Roy had been waiting for this too._ Ed stood up and tossed his bangs from his face before slapping Alphonse's back affectionately. Alphonse was rubbing at the top of his short hair as if he wanted to start a fire, and it was spraying water. "It must have been an absolute calamity of an accident."

"I am not talking about it." Roy ended things, and turned to Chris's thoughtful expression. "But to completely change topics, while we're alone I wanted to ask a favor."

In mock disgust Chris gave his eyebrows a quick hiking jump. "Don't let me dance with the candy, and now you want favors?"

"I want you to get some information for me. On an alchemist named Melander. I want to know why he's no longer practicing, and why he's now practicing in hiding."

"Doesn't the military have this information Roy?"

"Not the way I want it." Roy finished off his beer and stood up with his guests returning to the deck. "Our records our purposefully vague. Nothing I have access to appears to answer this simple question with anything less than an overly simple answer." Chris gave the tired half-smile of one well acquainted with political bullshit. "But I want you to get this as soon as you can."

"I like a challenge well enough," Chris said. "Consider it done." _Chris was good._

Alphonse was first on the deck, and looking like a cat someone tried to drown, went to the back door, and then stopped short, looking to Roy. "Do you mind if I use your bathroom Roy?"

Alphonse was dripping everywhere. _Good god, yes we did._ "Of course not," Roy said. This was the only answer you were allowed to give guests. "Help yourselves." Alphonse gave a lazy solute and went inside. Ed followed with Cindy close behind, so Roy and Chris did as well.

"You're kitchen is gorgeous!" Cindy squealed, taken with the rustic kitchen design. Chris made himself at home and took Cindy with him. Politely Roy excused himself to fetch a sweater with the temperature dropping.

Ed and Alphonse were in the hall with Alphonse slowly walking his wet self to the bathroom. Ed was at his side sharing something in a low naughty voice.

"No, he didn't," Alphonse said, waving Ed's words off before slipping and grabbing Ed's arm for balance.

Ed stabilized Al quickly. "Al, watch it. I fell earlier and..." Alphonse slipped to his butt when he tried to correct his stance, and Ed was just stable enough to keep his own footing. Ed laughed. "I said watch what you're doing!" Ed began pulling Alphonse up.

"I can't believe you didn't warn me sooner," Alphonse complained. "You used your automail didn't you, cheater." Ed ignored this and hung on to Alphonse as he stepped into the bathroom before Alphonse shut the door in Ed's face.

Roy passed Ed on his way to the stairs. "If we don't start driving back now, we'll have to get up early and go." Ed shrugged indifferently. "Your brother and Cindy are welcome to stay of course."

"And Cindy," Ed repeated, chuffed.

Roy smiled. "I think she's cute."

"Oh she's real cute," Ed said sarcastically, following Roy up the stairs. "She doesn't come in here and start touching your stuff like she does mine," Ed said, exaggerating his minor irritation. "All this, _oh well, I couldn't tell it was yours cause you look the same size. What you're older? Oh isn't that funny_." Ed impersonated Cindy in a high-pitched tone with dramatic inflection placed upon the first and last word of every sentence. Roy couldn't help himself, although it wasn't exactly appropriate, he started laughing. "_Why do you keep notes all over the house? Why don't you just get a binder_?" Ed returned to his normal tone to answer his fake Cindy questions. "Um, gee," Ed said bitterly. "Maybe it's cause I am a genius!" Roy paused at the top of the stairs and turned to Ed. He wanted to watch the theatrics of this one-sided conversation. With the word genius Ed gave his hands the tiniest toss-up like a conductor just beginning. "I can put my notes wherever I want, cause I live here, and that's what I do." Roy went to his room and grabbed a comfortable sweatshirt. "If it's my place, what should it matter where I keep my stuff?" Ed complained, before taking note of Roy pulling his sweatshirt on. "What about me?" Ed asked, gesturing to his wet body. Roy gave a shrug. "What's that mean?" Ed asked. "You don't care if I am cold?"

"Dry yourself with alchemy," Roy said. Ed frowned in disagreement. "And your bag is downstairs." Roy gave Ed a smile. "Use your legs." Ed defiantly remained stationary when Roy passed him in route to the stairs. "The sex was very good earlier Ed," Roy said casually.

Ed spun around at once and, looking extremely startled, pressed a finger to his lips.

"What?" Roy asked playfully. "I tried to tell you, but someone was so tired."

Ed gave these words a sharp eye flare. "Don't—_not so loud_," Ed whispered, blushing.

"Grab a towel." Roy pointed to his bedroom and Ed quickly went to the attached bath and returned carrying one. "I can't tell you it was good?" Roy asked, taking Ed's hand. "That it was top of the line, hotter than hot, very impressive?" He made to lift the back of Ed's hand for a kiss, but Ed bristled, and yanked it away. "I can't tell you how much I enjoyed it?" Ed glanced down the stairs, with nervous paranoia, but Roy could see the bit of excited pleasure growing in Ed's expression. _Ed was happy with the compliments._ Roy looped his arm about Ed's wet shoulders and whispered, "It was incredible, I want to thank you. I may never forget that experience."

"Yeah?" Ed asked softly, keeping his eyes averted with his cheeks burning. Roy watched a fat droplet of water slid down one of Ed's bangs and drip to the floor. Chris was right; he just wanted to ambush the boy with a fluffy towel. "Well you," Ed said softly, enacting a fleeting glance to Roy's patient expression, "you…haven't seen what I can do with my tongue yet."

Roy found this mildly humorous and grunted skeptically. "You're a horrible kisser, so my expectations aren't high."

Ed's mouth dropped open in shock, and he burst out a loud, flabbergasted, "What?" Roy planted a soft kiss on Ed's damp cheek, and began descending the stairs. "I—what—you?" Ed sputtered. "What do you mean I am not a good kisser?"

"I am sorry to be the one to break the news," Roy said, not the least bit sorry. "But you're not. It will come with time Ed."

Ed choked a deep sound of indignation before scoffing. "Forget you Roy." Ed stomped his way off the stairs, and Roy laughed because he found this adorable. "No, I am serious," Ed said angrily. "What kind of person says that to someone anyway? Horrible is a very strong word. Even if I am not the best, I have a hard time believing I would be, _horrible._" Ed angrily tossed the towel about his neck and looped it over his shoulders. "And I'll have you know there have been—lots of people who have thought—said I was a good kisser, okay?" Ed poked a scolding finger down on Roy's chest. _Roy loved it._ He took hold of Ed's hand and lifted it so he could kiss the top. "Ah!" Ed snapped, yanking his hand away. "Stop doing that! Stop—don't patronize me when I want to fight!"

"I can't help it," Roy said kindly. "Something about your precocious brabbling, is appealing." Roy gave a shrug, as if to say: _what are you going to do. _"To put it plainly, you look cute right now."

Ed was angry, and stubbornly disagreed with a fast, "I do not look cute now."

Alphonse exited the bathroom snickering to himself, and gave Ed's shoulder a teasing double pat as he passed. Under his breath, almost too low for Roy, but perfect for Ed who was sensitive to Alphonse's tones, he said, "So cute," and Ed fumed. Ed twitched away from Alphonse's touch, looking ambushed and overwhelmed with two people poking fun at him, but Alphonse ignored Ed's dark look, and entered the kitchen.

"Colonel!" Alphonse called from the other room. Roy left for the kitchen and took Ed's hand as he passed, but Ed ripped it away. Roy said nothing. He knew this was done either out of bashfulness, or Ed's lovable commitment to fight. "Colonel! You have a snow cone machine!" Alphonse called.

At Roy's kitchen counter Alphonse was at Cindy's side watching Chris prepare snow cones using a small kitchen appliance. Roy was slightly perplexed by the appearance of the domestic device he didn't know he had, but the lake house did have lot of those odds and ends.

"Apparently," Roy said, trying to figure out how Chris had found it. The machine came with a small set, and strewn about the counter were the appropriate cone style cups, and small syrup flavors. Ed went to the short squeeze bottles and lifted up the purple and pink to read the labels.

"Roy has the deluxe kit kitties, so prepare yourself," Chris said, holding the top of the machine as he ran it. "I make mean dry martinis, and I am sure I can do something with these snow cones."

Roy stopped this at once. "The kitties are all you-know-what with alcohol, so we don't want anything mean here."

Chris looked dampened, but recovered quickly with a fast, "All right then! Who wants normal snow cones?"

"All of us," Alphonse said, offering two empty cups. "Nii-san, remember how we used to a make these with alchemy?" Ed remembered, and smiled fondly. "The few times we had fluke snow, we'd run outside and nii-san would use alchemy to condense it, and I'd spoon it into cups."

"Wow, that's amazing," Cindy said. Chris filled Alphonse's two cups, and Cindy handed him two more empty ones. "I bet you looked so adorable when you were little playing in the snow Alphonse." Cindy drizzled pink strawberry syrup into both cups before looking to Ed. "What flavor do you want Ed?" she asked. She separated one cup for herself, and slid the other strawberry to Alphonse.

"The same," Ed said.

Alphonse took his cup from Cindy and gave her a quick, social peck on the lips. Roy looked to Ed, uncertain Ed's would have a positive reaction to the display of affection, and Ed looked uneasy. With an expression not quite comfortable with what he was looking at, he was looking all the same, until Cindy broke his concentration grabbing the third cone, and handing it over with a happy smile. Ed forced a polite and weak imitation.

"What were you two talking about in the hall?" Cindy asked, innocently making conversation while handing out spoons.

Ed was flummoxed, and Roy was glad, he wanted to answering this one, and quickly said, "We were just discussing the fundamentals of what would make someone a good kisser." Ed gave Roy a dark reproachful look, and Roy heard Ed's thoughts clearly. _Thanks_, _I just couldn't wait to share that._

"That's easy," Cindy said. "It's practice." Ed's annoyed expression became disgust.

"Those were my thoughts," Roy said.

"Kissing, is a skill," Chris said, smiling with blissful intoxication, but speaking with an educator's tone. "So there will be those who are naturals, emperors of the domain, born with that hidden talent that…" Roy snuck in a fast, "Chris, that's enough," worried about the descriptions that might be coming, but Chris finished smoothly with, "…everyone just envies."

"That sounds accurate to me," Alphonse said, mouth full of sugary ice as he devoured his cone. Ed was glaring daggers into Roy's side, and stabbed his spoon into the pink treat as if he wanted to kill it.

"Alphonse is such a good kisser," Cindy said, petting a hand down Alphonse's arm. _Ed's fury became an electrical charge at the side of Roy's body closest to Ed's mute self. _"Alphonse, you didn't get that practicing, did you?" Cindy teased, looking slightly concerned this might be true.

"Yeah, did you?" Ed asked, eyes in his snow cone as he stabbed at it.

Alphonse glanced to Ed with mild annoyance, but smiled to Cindy, and said, "Of course not. I must just be naturally good at it." Ed snorted skeptically, and Alphonse looked over and opened his mouth to speak. Roy knew what question was coming, somehow it was obvious: _And how are you nii-san?_ Turning his gaze from Cindy to Ed, Alphonse began with "Why don't we ask," and made it to, "what kind of," before he stopped. With the beginning of this question Ed's gaze had leapt up from his cup looking startled, with anger gone and dread in place. As soon as Alphonse met Ed's gaze he cut himself off and went silent, and the verbal halt was almost as extreme as a physical flinch.

With confusion Cindy quickly asked, "Are you okay Al?"

Roy looked questioningly to Ed, but Ed was staring intently at Alphonse, and the gaze was a communication Roy had never seen. Real, and very powerful, it seemed to be streaming from Edward's head to Alphonse's mind as thoroughly as a direct link. As efficiently as one picking up a ringing receiver, Alphonse had answered, and stopped himself abruptly with some type of new understanding to everything Ed might have been thinking or feeling.

Alphonse turned to Cindy and answered, "I am okay." He broke a wide grin, and the event, which lasted no more than a second, was over. "I just bit my tongue."

"Besides I don't think practice or natural skill has much to do with it," Ed said, sounding determined. "The variable of preference, means it would be impossible to identify a generic kissing model. Therefore, an individual's grade of kissing, will vary, based on the evaluator's preference."

Wearing a disagreeing expression Cindy was licking her spoon as Ed spoke, and when he finished she said, "No, it's practice. Practice for sure."

_Ed was going to kill her._ Roy could see it in Ed's face. Fury: _Fury idiots were questioning you._

"Alphonse, Cindy, you're welcome to stay the night," Roy said, changing the subject quickly.

"Roy, how generous of you," Chris said, becoming excited.

"Not you," Roy said firmly. "You have a home, go to it." Chris looked disappointed, but more or less as if he expected the decree. "Alphonse and Cindy, please keep in mind you will need to get up early tomorrow in order to make your shift," Roy said, sneaking a quick glance to Ed. _Ed was still managing control over himself._

Alphonse finished his snow cone in a whopping bite, and looked to Cindy. "What do you want to do?"

"I am not sure," Cindy said softly. "What do you want to do?" Ed rolled his eyes looking overwhelmed with the insanity of the exchange.

"I'll let you decide," Alphonse said kindly.

"Well, I…well, what do you want?" Cindy didn't look as if she would make the decision on her own.

"Whatever you feel like," Alphonse said.

Ed was severely uncomfortable with the banter. Roy could see it crawling over Ed like a rash Ed wanted to tear at, but he had locked his gaze in his cup, and was focusing on drilling his spoon into the bottom. Alphonse's tender accommodation to the other gender, was senseless, pointless, and time-wasting to Ed's scientific brain, and witnessing this entirely unrecognizable side of Alphonse, put Ed on edge.

"Someone, just figure it out," Ed said curtly.

Ever courteous and understanding, Alphonse said, "Okay, don't be moody nii-san." Ed muttered something under his breath, and set his cup on the counter a bit too harshly. "Roy, we really don't want to impose."

"It's no problem. I have two couches in the living room and a guest bedroom upstairs."

Alphonse looked to Ed for direction, but Ed was fiddling with his spoon like a sullen child. "Nii-san?" Alphonse asked softly. _What would you like me to do? Are you staying the night?"_

"Yeah," Ed muttered, holding the neck of the spoon and twisting the handle in an unwinnable fight.

Alphonse understood and turned back to Cindy. "I don't know, we'd have to get up so early."

"Okay, we'll go then," Cindy said, sounding happy and eager to agree.

"Are you sure?" Alphonse asked. Ed ran a hand into his wet hair and slapped his spoon down alongside his cup. _If she said she didn't care and wanted to do what Alphonse decided, why continue asking these stupid questions!_

"Yeah, it's fine," Cindy said, happily. "I don't mind Alphonse, whatever you want to do."

"Okay, we're going to go," Alphonse said, setting his and Cindy's cups and spoons in the sink.

Chris announced he would also be going, shook hands with Alphonse and Ed, gave Cindy a hug, and left with instructions he was to be called the next time Ed sunned himself outdoors, swam in the lake, or felt like showering in Roy's upstairs bathroom which placed the shower dangerously close to the window.

Roy ignored all of this. He leaned into his kitchen counter eating his snow cone, and let his guests depart.

Alphonse went to the door and gave a playful solute, "Colonel, thanks for having us." Ed followed, still in his funk, and looked disappointed Alphonse was leaving, but exhausted with the annoyance Alphonse was bringing.

Roy gave Cindy a wave with his spoon when she called a cheerful goodbye. Then he watched her go to Ed and open her arms for a hug. Ed complied gracefully, but gave Alphonse a puzzled and criticizing expression from over her shoulder. Then he disengaged and gave Cindy a smile. "It was good seeing you Cindy," Ed said politely

Cindy repeated equal sentiments, and returned to Alphonse, but he gave her the keys and told her to go on ahead. With one last wave to everyone she did so, and Alphonse watched her cross the deck and descend the stairs before turning to Ed with a dark look Ed knew was coming.

Stubbornly Ed had crossed his arms the minute Alphonse removed Cindy from the room, and his mannerisms said quite clearly, he knew he was in trouble.

"Are we okay?" Alphonse asked Ed, tone a bit annoyed. Now that Cindy was gone, Alphonse released his frustration with the impact of opening an oven door to the room.

"_I _am fine," Ed snapped defensively, sounding far from fine. "_You're_ mad."

"Oh," Alphonse said in mock sarcasm. "I am the one mad." Alphonse gave a heavy sign, and dropped his hands to his hips. For a moment he was silent, staring downward thoughtfully with Ed simply waiting, before looking up. "You're making it hard for me," Alphonse said.

"I am not making it hard for you," Ed said, shifting his weight uncomfortably.

"Yes. You're making it hard for me." Ed dropped his arms and gave the back of his neck a rub. "Nii-san."

"Okay." Ed gave a soft shrug. "I am sorry."

Roy was contemplating leaving the room to give the brothers some privacy before Ed apologized, but afterward he wanted to stay. He was fascinated with Ed's quick and thorough submission to Alphonse's anger.

"I am sorry. I'll be nicer," Ed said sincerely. "But—I—you know Alphonse, I wasn't expecting it, and I—why is she hugging me?" Ed asked, gesturing to the door with irritation.

"Because she likes you nii-san," Alphonse said, sounding disappointed. "She likes you and she likes me, and it's fair that I can bring her with me." Alphonse raised his eyebrows slowly and the message was clear: _Don't be a hypocrite._ "At least you're not coming home and finding her unexpectedly," Alphonse said, with a bit of scolding. "With or without her clothes."

"Okay, okay," Ed said, tossing his hands up for surrender. "I said I apologized, let's talk about it later, don't be mad at me, don't make her wait in the car." Ed began pushing Alphonse to the door. "Thanks for coming, have a safe drive."

Alphonse opened the door beginning to smile widely, but Ed stopped him with a quick, but very tight, hug. Alphonse complied, standing still and letting Ed squeeze him. "Okay, bye nii-san," Alphonse said, muffling his words over Ed's shoulder. Ed stepped back quickly, and cleared his throat, gesturing for Alphonse to leave. Alphonse held a hand up to Roy, and Roy waved. Then he left, whispering a soft, "Get down and dirty while you can, nii-san."

Ed slammed the door.

Blushing like a mad man, Ed watched Alphonse stroll down the deck whistling, before Cindy honked, and he picked up his pace. Roy was keeping his smile to himself, but with Alphonse a safe distance away he asked, "What he say?"

Ed shrugged quickly, unable to make eye contact he watched the car back from the driveway. "Just stuff."

"It's late," Roy said. Ed nodded in agreement and walked to the counter. Roy was scrapping the bottom of his snow cone cup. "Get your bag. We need to go to bed and you're wet with lake water." Ed plopped down on a stool and groaned. "We're going to have to get up at four tomorrow to make this work." Ed leaned his head to the counter and groaned louder. "Since we have to get up so early, I guess there's no time for a round two, where I again pound that sweet ass you have."

Ed pushed himself up, looking embarrassed, and a bit annoyed. He went to leave for his bag, but Roy stopped this, snatching Ed's arm before he could move.

"So instead," Roy said sweetly. 'I would love to just lay back and cuddle with you."

Ed's frustration dissolved, and looking pleased he said, "I'll go get my bag."

* * *

Chapter eleven, end – Thank you to all for reading!

I hope you enjoyed Roy and Ed's relaxing evening. To any of you worried I've veered off my plot and don't know what's going on, no worries, I assure you it is returning.

Now as I mentioned earlier, I am leaving for vacation shortly, and will be rocking it out in Norway, Ireland, and Scotland! (I may also jet into Paris for a tinsy-bit since I am flying in and out of London). How does this rendezvous affect you, you say? Well, while I am on holiday partying like this, there are posting delays. : ( I know, so sad. To keep you guys from having to wait too long, I will post on the 12th and 27th, or else you'd all be waiting until October when I drag my partied-out self back to the states, and I would just feel too guilty about that.

09/06/13 – Chapter 12: _Lurking Enemy_ (24 pages)  
09/12/13 – Chapter 13: _Give An Inch and Lose A…_ (17 pages)  
_(Yes, a Thursday! That's how much I love you, I am posting Thursday because Friday is just too busy!)_  
09/27/13 – Chapter 14: _Standing In Traffic_ (22 pages)

So posting like this causes only a one week break, no biggie guys, no biggie! I promise Chapter 14 will give you a nice curve ball and then we start our trip to the end finale (ohh!). Foolish For You is a total of 21 Chapters + Epilogue, so you still have quite a bit to go.

Thank you again for reading – please take a minute to thank me for writing! This is hard stuff you know. Ed can be a sassy little thing, and the colonel, goodness, he's a class act that man, but he can be stubborn. These two aren't easy to write, although they're easy to read. : ) Please review!


	12. Lurking Enemy

This chapter is rated MA for Mature Sexual Content, Graphic Scenes, and Yaoi Material  
Reader discretion advised

* * *

Foolish For You  
Chapter Twelve  
_Lurking Enemy_

-mirage-

The lake house alarm clock was beeping for several minutes before Roy responded. He woke slowly, to the continuous sound, and when he came to recognize it, he reached over and shut it off.

Ed slept undisturbed, sprawled on his stomach drooling.

Roy nudged Ed's shoulder before running his hand onto Ed's bare back and stroking it. "Ed, the alarm went off." Ed awoke enough to understand they were together and snuggled closer. "No Ed, you need to get up." Ed wrapped an arm over Roy's chest, half asleep, and Roy cleared his throat for a louder, "Ed?"

Ed's head jerked up. "What?" Ed asked, looking entirely disoriented.

"We need to get up." Ed looked to the clock. "It's morning." Ed dropped his head back to the pillow and groaned.

"How about I…don't go in today," Ed mumbled.

"And what about me?" Roy asked dryly. Ed was silent, breathing pattern calm with sleep until Roy disturbed it with a muttered, "Ed?" He nudged Ed's shoulder again. "I said, what about me?"

Sleepily Ed mumbled, "What…about me, what?" He turned his face slowly, pulling it groggily rather than lifting it, and then pressing it to the side of Roy's chest.

"Ed, you're not funny." Ed gave a quiet snicker. "We will be late," Roy said, coming to care less and less this was the case. "Ed?" Ed didn't want to wake up, he was passively resistant, until Roy attempted to sit up, and then Ed restrained the movement. The automail arm was strong, a solid steel bar, holding Roy to the mattress as Ed moved in for what he wanted: _Attention. _He slid flush to Roy's body, and then quickly on top. His frame was narrow, and easily accommodated, but the metal parts were heavy and felt like weapons. Roy's hands instinctively clasped Ed's hips.

Things moved quickly, from brief cuddling, to aggressive arousal. Ed suddenly jutted his hips down into Roy's, forcing his erection to Roy's pelvis in a natural thrust. With no experience on top, Ed found that his body knew what to do with instinct, and he grabbed at Roy. He clamped Roy's left wrist in his metal hand, pinned it to the bed, and reached down between their groins even while beginning to rock.

Roy's eyes were only half-open, and he stared up at Ed's sleeping expression as it contorted with flushes of pleasure, and quick aching need. "What are you doing?" Roy asked softly, letting Ed move. Ed was positioning to lead, getting his knees to the bed where there was leverage, pushing to fit between Roy's thighs, and trying to get Roy's pants off, and himself out of his fly with faltering, unsuccessful tugs at the fabric between them. Roy began chuckling softly. _What a morning surprise. _"Ed," Roy said kindly, lovingly. "We do not have time for this right now."

"Okay," Ed muttered, sounding half asleep and pacifying. Roy instantly had memory of Ed repeating the same to Alphonse in a sleep entrenched stupor while telling the boy to go to work. Ed didn't stop a single movement, and was mounting in need toward demanding gratification.

"If you start this, you had better be able to finish it," Roy threatened happily. "And quickly." He couldn't hide the fact Ed's rocking momentum wasn't arousing him. He was hard in his pants, and Ed was aiming at his interest.

"Quick," Ed repeated softly.

"Yes."

"Okay."

Roy laughed. "You naughty little thing."

Ed's eyes opened for the first time, in thin dangerous slits, and the bright gold color looked like the first rays of sun slipping out from an eclipse. _Yes, come out from behind the moon, _Roy thought.

The metal hand moved, capturing Roy's chin with quick inhuman speed and strength. "Then, give it to me," Ed said, sounding deadly. His voice was stridulous, but soft, and he lowered his face slowly, so strands of his bangs dropped like ribbons to Roy's cheeks, and his nose stopped just above Roy's. "But don't say little," Ed warned, breaking a cunning shit-eating grin.

Roy loved this, and he turned his jaw and bit Ed's metal index finger. His teeth against the steel made an abrasive clanking sound, and Ed yawned slowly with intense fascination. The strong metal against something as delicate as Roy's incisors was a bit scary, but bravely he closed his mouth around the digit and gave a powerful and hungry suck before saying, "Get your pants off, and your hips over a pillow."

Ed moved quickly, wiping the wet metal finger against the sheets. He pushed their pillows together and doubled over them, while Roy took the oil from his nightstand drawer. Ed was losing his modesty, and berated Roy to hurry with mock insults. Roy did his best to oil his fingers and necessary body, with his arousal causing him to tremble, and restraint becoming a wishful fantasy. Full prepared he attacked Ed like a jaguar, pushing him forcefully to the mattress, and mounting.

"You are…" Roy whispered into Ed's ear, petting his hand through Ed's hair and inhaling the smell of Ed deeply. His bare skin was flush to Ed's, and beneath his slickened groin he could feel Ed's soft body. "…so amazing."

"Quick," Ed said, jerking an elbow back as if to shoulder Roy off. "Quick you said, quick, now stop fucking around, do this, let's go." Ed gave his hips an enticing wiggle and the sensation was a fluttering over Roy's penis. "You know how to use that cock or what?"

Roy clamped his jaw tightly, biting at nothing, and it was all he could do to keep from coming. He reached down, grasping Ed's bare cheeks, and preparing for penetration. Ed was cooperating as much as demanding. He spread his legs accessibly, and arched his back hungrily.

"You're greedy and you're rude," Roy said, grinning as he aligned them.

"Shut up and fuck me," Ed snapped. Roy was prepared to, but with this comment he dodged his erection downward, and instead pet his oiled right middle finger directly over Ed's anus. Ed flinched under the stimulation of it. The move was gentle and soft, but deliberate. Dragging his finger back up over the sensitive and vulnerable orifice, Roy pressed it in. He wanted to touch, and he wanted to prod, but the reserved side of him was also sensitive to the idea Ed might need some time after yesterday. That Ed might be sore, or even slightly swollen. He could ask, sure, he could ask about that type of thing, but who was honest about that type of thing. No one wanted to articulate that question, and no one wanted to answer it, so he indulged himself with physical abuse, and simultaneously, he decided whether or not Ed was in condition for sex.

Ed was crazy with lust, and thrust his ass back, latching to the bed, and groaning loudly with appreciation.

"For someone so modest with sex when they're not doing it, you certainly love to have your ass invaded," Roy said, toying with his finger. Ed groaned, a hearty sound of weak protest, and confession. Roy's bobbing, twisting, and tickling finger felt incredibly good, indescribably good, and took away everything from insecurity to reality, and chanted wildly, unstably, and willfully insane for MORE. _MORE MORE MORE._ There was nothing else, in this moment there was only the sensation of being fucked with something painlessly delicious, in the predatory fashion of a concurred animal. "And you like being talked down to, and talked dirty to, and handled forcefully," Roy said, leaning over Ed with a wide grin. "People pay good money for this Ed. You are a sexual fantasy."

"Then I'll start charging you," Ed teased, panting heavily, and sweating.

"I get so hard, it's just as painful not to fuck you, as it is to squeeze in there and deposit."

"I want you to pull my hair some more," Ed said quickly, reaching back and encouraging Roy to close in, and continue onward. "I really want you to fuck me."

"I know what you want," Roy said softly, nodding. Ed seemed unsure, even in his lust drunk state, if his very accurate statement, was being taken as accurately as it should. He wasn't asking for affection, or love-making, he wanted hands-and-knees, skin-slapping domination.

"After," Ed said, adding this word with a sudden and startled voice, as if he'd forgotten something important, and may have already set momentum too quick for additions. "After!" Roy heard, and understood this too. _After, the sentiment, after, the cuddling. _"I mean it," Ed said firmly, unaware Roy felt confident. "If not, I'll kick your ass, I am not messing around." Ed managed to look back, and on sight of Roy's wide grin, he broke a fast imitation and said, "Oh you like that?" Roy did like it. _How was it, Ed could make himself hotter. _"Listen to how disrespectfully I talk to my commander."

"Ed, you don't have to pretend in that area," Roy said kindly, and Ed laughed. "I wouldn't be so cocky, while you're giving up so much command." He added a second finger, sliding it in with the first, and Ed shuttered, wincing tightly with uncertainty.

"Y—yes sir," Ed whispered, moving to a smug seductive tone. "I am sorry sir."

"You'll be more than that," Roy said, getting to his knees. He replaced his fingers with his body, and Ed moaned the entire entrance. Ed gripped the sheets, body glistening with sweat, and felt like heaven inside. Roy was quick, using his frame to give Ed what was desired, and securing Ed's legs and wrists. His hips were rhythmic and mechanical, and Ed took it over the pillow for three minutes before Roy released. They were in perfect harmony, Roy wanting to rail, and Ed wanting to be railed. There was no change in tempo, only fast, consistent, carnal fornication.

After his orgasm, Roy took a brief moment to rest, catching his breath, before lifting his hips enough to withdraw his flaccid self. He did not release Ed, and Ed squirmed under the sensation of the extraction, arching away with distaste, and muffling a soft worried sound.

"It's all right," Roy said kindly. He laid down at Ed's side, kissing what bit of Ed's face and ear was exposed in the sheets. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Ed whispered.

"Feel good?"

"Yeah."

"That was a nice morning surprise."

"Yes."

For what seemed like only a short time, they lay together half awake and at peace, before Ed gave a lazy stretch. With slow catlike extension of his limbs, he yawned heavily and picked his head up for a glance at the clock. Then loudly, jerking into action, he bolted off Roy and cried out, "Shit, it's almost five!"

* * *

Ed glanced at the speed limit sign when they passed it, but said nothing. Roy was speeding badly, but it would not make much of a difference.

"We're going to be late," Roy said irritably.

Ed had his feet on the dashboard and was taping his boot nervously. "Whose fault is that?"

"Yours Ed," Roy said dryly. "It's yours."

"You're just as much at fault as me." Roy sighed with disapproval, because this was true. "Everything was, became an obstacle," Ed said, lifting his hand and flopping it uselessly in a gesture meant to describe _everything._ "One thing after another." It was, they were new lovers, and everything was an experience. Waking up, getting ready in the morning, making breakfast, putting the bags in the car. Everything had that fresh and promising excitement to it. _This is what I do, and this is how I do it with another person. With my partner._ Their routines were running into each others, and they were curious. Ed wanted to shower, Roy wanted to shave, they briefly discussed who would do what, while grabbing towels, and extra clothing. Ed showered, talking with the curtain pulled half way so he could watch Roy clean his face of stubble, and through the mirror Roy watched Ed scrub his body methodically. They got dressed, quickly, chatting, they made breakfast, Ed not knowing where anything was, and Roy unsure what Ed needed in the morning. Was coffee enough? Coffee and toast? Toast and eggs? Was Ed a juice person? They put their bags in the car, still in conversation, checking to make sure they didn't forget anything, asking if each other needed anything, and in between it all, _all of it, _they messed around.

It couldn't be helped. Or could it, and they were irresponsible. Or they were selfish, and demanded, uncaring of the consequences, for the world to stop and just let them have two motherfucking seconds to themselves. They were intimate in the bathroom, in the kitchen, they kissed on the deck, with the sun just coming into the sky and the morning birds calling. Selfishly they were clinging to yesterday and their stolen time, and the bit of sanctuary this day provided, before climbing into the car with the weight of reality riding with them as they backed out of the drive.

"I warned you not to start anything," Roy said, feeling sabotaged with himself. Since when had he really started abusing his position and exercising poor judgment calls based on the guaranteed forgiveness of his title? Was that what he was going to become, a mooching colonel?

"And just because you did, does not change the fact you're just as much as fault," Ed said, only slightly annoyed. "I didn't start the stuff in the bathroom, and I am certainly not entirely at fault for the kitchen."

Roy surrendered. Bickering about the events when they were both adults and could have changed things did no good. "Did you have enough breakfast?" he asked, curious if Ed were hungry. They had made English muffins fast, in the toaster, and loaded them with jam.

"I am not a big breakfast person."

"I could have made some eggs, or maybe some bacon."

"That would have taken too long." Ed turned his gaze to the scenery and watched it travel by. "What if someone notices us pulling in together?"

"How is that more inappropriate than me driving to your apartment? Or picking you up at your beckon and call." Ed sighed. "No one is paying attention to us. You've been in my command for too long Ed. You're an old hat."

Ed turned to Roy and gave him a baffled look. "An old hat." Roy began chuckling, eyes on the road. "I am an old hat?"

"Yes," Roy said, giving Ed a quick smile. "When we pull in, just get to work as soon as you can. At the very least you showing up late is better than you not showing up at all." Ed groaned in protest when a scolding authoritative tone began sneaking into Roy's voice. "Ed, you're absences can't get much higher," he warned.

Ed became uncomfortable with the metamorphosis toward work, work topics, and the appropriate employment of rank. Roy was becoming Roy Mustang from the office, the ruler, and he was falling back into place as Edward Elric, the subordinate. This was done tactfully, and politely, and more, it was done as he knew it would have to be done. Their relationship would not change their professional hierarchy, and it was important things stay that way. It was important he was candid and responsible here, and he promised himself to try.

"It's going to start causing problems," Roy said, navigating them quickly through Central. Morning work traffic had died down, and the streets weren't clear, but they weren't congested.

"You worry too much," Ed said, making light of the situation.

"I need you to report to my office around four so I can go over this with you."

Ed felt his irritation spike, and his promise to remain responsible suddenly became less important. "I can't believe you're going to fall back into that boot-licking corporate BS, and ride my ass over this," Ed said angrily. He shot Roy an accusatory look. "How impressive is my military record? How impressive?" Ed asked sarcastically. This question wasn't meant to be answered, and Ed continued quickly with a loud, "That's how damn impressive it is. And you, and everyone else know, when the shit hits the fan, I show up and get it done, but no, you want to ride me on fucking attendance. Like a god damn school child."

"It's nothing personal Ed," Roy said, managing a word while Ed was ranting. He pulled into Central Command, and veered them into the closest parking lot.

"The hell it isn't!" Ed snapped. "I am giving you fuckers the best years of my life, handing over the research, aiding when asked, I don't cause any trouble anymore! I am over that! No more conspiracy digging, and political wars, Alphonse is back in his body, and all I need is for people to get out of my way, and just give me the time I need, to do what I do, and somehow that's asking too much?"

"You're not asking for permission to take on a project, you're delinquently failing to show to the one you have." Roy pulled into an empty spot and killed the engine. He leaned comfortably toward the steering wheel and turned to Ed. "If you want to start a research project, you know how to do that."

"I don't _want _to start a research project!" Ed snapped, _because research projects meant you had to hand over the research the military accommodated you in finance and time to create._

"Then you need to come to work."

Ed opened his door in a hostile jerk of the handle, and Roy reached across the seats and grabbed Ed's wrist before Ed could exit the car.

Ed was stunned with the action, and looked to Roy's grip before lifting his gaze with confusion. Tenderly, Roy said, "Come here." He gave Ed's arm a weak tug. "Stop, and relax."

Ed turned away in a pout. He didn't want to be consoled by the same backstabber burying him in military red tape. "No," Ed said angrily. Roy slid closer, and left a soft kiss on Ed's cheek, but Ed shook his head to shew the gesture away and said, "Stop it, I don't want kisses now."

Roy laughed softly. "Everyone wants kisses all the time."

Ed was caught off guard with this statement, and turned to Roy with surprise. His expression was vulnerably exposed with self betrayal. His frustration was worry, and hated doubt Roy might leave his campaign, and side against him in the arm's of the military, and this was suddenly obvious, to both of them.

"I am your commanding officer on the clock, but I am always myself," Roy said softly. "I need you to help me here Ed. I need your support as one of my strongest men, and now, my only lover, do you think you can do that?" Ed was speechless, but from the bottom of his stomach he felt the painful desperation to toss himself at Mustang, in starving need, to impress and be accepted by the man, that was years old. Dumbly, he nodded. "This is policy," Roy said. "I'm not mad at you, although I don't agree with your decisions, but we can talk about that off the clock, as equals. The boundaries which exist within our professional positions have to remain. It will be as simple, but also as complicated, as moving on and off the clock."

"I get it," Ed said softly. "I know that's how it has to be."

"I am your commanding officer, and I am following policy, but that doesn't mean I am not worried, and won't do what I can to help." Roy grew a slow teasing smile, and it said more to Ed than Roy could with words. _Did you think I wouldn't take your side you little dummy? _"You're smarter than this Ed," Roy said kindly. He was painted with the façade of being the military's every diligent colonel, operating without leniency in steadfast allegiance to every letter of doctrine preached, but reality was, he was human. _Don't be so blinded by emotion, you forget yourself, _Roy's teasing smile said. "Besides," Roy added. "I happen to like riding your ass."

Roy leaned to Ed's lips for a sweet and chaise kiss. The passion of the morning was meant for the cabin, it was time to go to work. Ed was happy, Roy could feel it between them as if the air had been cleared, and Ed's lips puckered and pressed to his with reciprocation, before suddenly, Ed jerked away as if he'd been struck.

Ed's movement was so unexpected Roy flinched. Ed had yanked back into the passenger seat, rigidly straight-backed in his chair, as if pounced upon by a ferocious beast. His eyes were wide with fearful devastation, and he was staring out the windshield before whispering, "Shit."

Standing before the car was Hawkeye, in full uniform, with a slightly tense blank expression, staring back at Ed.

"What do we do?" Ed whispered. Roy returned fully to his seat and looked at his First Lieutenant. She was standing at ease holding a small arm full of folders, and while her expression might look blank to Ed, it was speaking volumes to Roy.

"It's all right," he said quickly, he turned to Ed and gave a nod. "I'll see you later."

Ed didn't need to hear this twice; he fled the car without so much as another glance Hawkeye's way. Roy had specifically not parked too close to the nearest entrance doors, so it was obvious Hawkeye had been watching for him.

With false confidence Roy stepped out and shut his door. He pocketed his keys with his eyes on her. Irritably, this wasn't how he preferred to break the news, although it got the job done. With Hawkeye especially, he had wanted to do it alone, in private, so he could be painfully honest. He wasn't in any way seeking, or confused, with the child Ed had once been. That side of Ed was grotesque to him, repelled him physically and emotionally, because he wasn't looking to get in bed with a twelve-year-old boy. It was luck, or it was fate, or it was twisted, but they had fallen into the correct, and unlikely, serious of events that allowed Ishval to be what it was for his career, so when Ed, still in diapers, wandered into enlistment, he reported to a colonel, of twenty-nine, still more interested in tossing back cold-ones, getting lap-dances, and fantasizing his way into running the entire country, than a stuffy grump in his fifties. In the grand scheme of things, Roy's age and accomplishments made him a bit of a rockstar, and as Ed grew, they had just happened to meet when they had, and meet again, now, as they had, with everything falling into place, and this wasn't about sleeping with a co-worker, or your subordinate, this was finding someone you thought you could relate to, and wanted to keep.

He wanted her to understand this. Truly, thoroughly understand it. No shred of doubt must exist surrounding his interest in Ed now and any speculation of the past. Out of everyone they might ever tell, her opinion was one of those most important to him, and Roy knew, now, approaching her slowly, that her rejection, would wound him deeply.

"You're late sir," Hawkeye said. Her eyes were squinted in the sun, but the bit of light they caught made them sharp twinkling diamonds. Just as he often thought he could see Ed's gears turning behind those golden eyes, churning relentlessly, so was she, always spinning, as if the inside of her head was lines of spider thin thread, weaving and weaving, where Ed was grinding and grinding.

Roy felt a weak, but relieved smile spread outward lifting his cheeks. _She was gracious. _"Speak freely to me," he said, unable to hide the soft and brittle tone to his voice. All she had to do was plunge the knife in. "I trust you."

Hawkeye's expression tightened. Between her cunning eyes a small wrinkle bent inward like a moot suggesting the division of her face. She was worried, but not about him, she was worried for him. "Conduct your personal life, with more stealth, sir," she whispered, quickly, desperately. He could hear that she wanted to add an exclamation, a _'my god,' _or _'for heaven's sake,' _but she didn't, because she was professional. "We're soldiers," she scolded, tone becoming a bit playful. _Was it so hard to hide your own boyfriend?_

Roy dropped his gaze, masking the crippling relief that washed through him and sagging his shoulders. "I think I'll take that advice into some real consideration," he said. She nodded, beginning to smile, and it was light and happy. She was excited for him, she was happy for him, for Ed, and it was apparent.

He followed her inside, and she went with him as he made himself a cup of coffee. She kept a tight hold on her files, hugging them to her chest, the way women often held office work, and he understood why as they approached his office.

"It happened late yesterday," Hawkeye said, keeping her voice down. "I've been trying to reach you, this murder is unlike the others." She went with him to his desk, and took one of the chairs facing it. Her tone said this was critical, and Roy brushed his piled desk to left and right to create a void of work space. "The murder was…intense," Hawkeye said, setting her folders down and shoving them over.

Roy took them quickly, turning them around, and flipping back the covers. The pictures stopped you. "My god," he said. He would not have known by looking that it was human.

"Obviously, there is delay in determining the cause of death," Hawkeye said, sounding sad. The victim was mutilated beyond reason. "It looks manually done, but some of the flesh had, was explained to me to have been cooked slightly about the edges, as if exposed to tremendous heat, and that's enough to draw a conclusion." _The conclusion a transmutation assisted in the violation._

"Was there evidence found?" Roy asked, flipping the pictures slowly.

"No," Hawkeye said, before stopping things on the next. She reached forward and pointed to the bloody image where something of a white quality was poking free of the mess. "This has been identified as a pelvic bone, the pelvic girdle." Roy was disgusted. "It's been confirmed to be male." Roy looked up with shock. All of the previous victims, _all of them_, had been female. Young blonde women, with nothing identifiable, or in common, linking them together. This fact alone, was the strongest detail fighting the concept they were serial murders. Much of Amestrian's bloodline fostered blonde hair and light eyes, just because all the women were blonde, did not mean they had a serial killer targeting blonde women. In fact, the only evidence linking the murders was that they were all incredibly violent. Bodies battered so that identification was difficult, and determining cause of death, or the first cause of death, was nearly unfeasible. This made it impossible to know how many attackers were involved, and what the motives could be.

"All of the other victims were female." Roy stated the obvious.

Looking serious Hawkeye said, "It has been confirmed, beyond any doubt, in size and shape, that the pelvis bone is male," she repeated. "The entire case has changed." Then her seriousness faded and she took a small cleansing breath, as if letting it go. "With the murder this recent, the scene has been cleaned, and most of the evidence reports will continue to come in throughout the week, but I wanted to get you the pictures right away. We will need to consider disclosing this soon."

"I don't know what to disclose," Roy said, sourly closing the folder. "There's next to nothing we've gathered that can help forecast victim type. We don't want the public to panic."

"But we also don't want them cut up into pieces, and turned inside out." The phone began ringing, and Roy ignored it. Hawkeye took a step back, and pointed to his inbox. It was a mountain, and next to it was a pillar of folders. "I've done my best to delegate out what I could without your approval, but," her pointing hand moved to the folders, "these are your past victims." She looked discouraged. "Also, finance documents, which need your signature, and the East has requested to transfer thirty of their newly enlisted for thirty of our men with the justification their base is small and needs more experienced personnel as they are on the border."

"There is no concern for danger in the East, are they insane?" Roy asked. Since when did you get to handpick everyone in your building?

Hawkeye smiled. "Apparently so." Roy reached to the top of his inbox and picked up a well-worn manila personnel file. He gave Hawkeye an inquisitive glance and she said, "That is Edward's file sir." Beneath Edward's was Alphonse's. "I put everything you'd need inside it."

"Find him for me," Roy said, becoming irritated Ed's folder was in competition with such important tasks. "I want Elric off my desk immediately, I need the space."

"Understood sir." She saluted and left.

Roy returned to the new murder and reviewed the case. It was as fresh as Hawkeye said, discovered late last night near midnight, time of death suspected to be late afternoon, perhaps three. According to the size of the bones, the victim was male, young, approximate age eighteen, and for a moment Roy's eyes sat on that statement. _Young, eighteen. _When he was eighteen, he was enlisting in the military with a heart full of hope and change. When Ed was eighteen, he had already accomplished what might be the greatest highlights of his career, and ahead of them both, were hours, and days, and weeks, and months, of life to live, and experiences guaranteed to come. Yesterday, at perhaps three in the afternoon, this boy's life had stopped suddenly. Unexpectedly every plan he had made for the future, every hope of life accomplishment, every dream and aspiration, and all he had done to prepare for them, meant nothing. With what was probably one solid blow, or single chemical, the unfortunate result was that his heart stopped beating, his blood stopped pumping, his lungs fell into thin shriveled and motionless sacks, and his mind died.

Without warning.

Perhaps, without cause, or without the boy having done anything to deserve such a fate.

The evidence left behind was his body, in pieces, some of it mush. They assumed the boy was local, because all the victims had been. They assumed he worked someone near by, and was probably in what he considered a safe area, doing something that was common to him. Like all the victims to date, he was in the middle of his life, perhaps grabbing a late lunch, meeting up with friends, or studying for school exams, and somehow, before he managed to begin or accomplish this task, they estimated he was attacked, beaten, and somehow filtered through a series of gruesome acts that lead him to be the human paint for an abstract canvas on an alley floor.

Breaking apart the forensic evidence was difficult when things became this…obscure. Identification was left to the burden of dental records, fingerprints, and identifying marks the body might have, such as tattoos or scars if they could locate intact skin. When the teeth and fingers were missing or unidentifiable, things became more complicated. Things slowed to a crawl. Without a name or face to their victim, finding out where he was and what he was doing, was difficult, and the more time it took to seek this information, the more ambiguous it became. Most disheartening in this set up was the role the public would play. Solving the missing identity before all of their science, with the simple frantic call from the boy's mother to the local Police. He would become a missing person, their John Doe, and when someone finally had the boy's mother on the line she would tell them, where he was, what he was doing, and why she was worried.

They would tell her, he was dead.

They would say they were sorry, they would say it was a loss, they would say they would do their best to catch the murderer, and they would not tell her about the bit of alchemist chalk that Roy was certain would be lifted. They would forget to mention what bit of the array might be deciphered among the blood splatter. They would not say the word alchemist, because in Central, it was a bit too close to saying the phrase State Alchemist, and that was a bit too close to saying the word Military. Bitterly, and hatefully, Roy thought about how that sounded accurately like the name JACOB MELANDER. _Edward's secret best friend._

Roy dropped the case to his report and used the heels of his palms to scrub his eyes. The idea someone was going Pollack with a human body in an open public area was too horrible to consider. Logically, they had to assume the bodies were being dumped. Who would have the time! Who would have the skill! At the risk of being caught painted up to the elbows and knees in it. How would it be possible to stand within ear shot of passing cars, and casual shoppers, and open stores, and local stray animals, and dismantle, crack open, smear, slice, and spread, a human across a four by five area as if you were putting down a rug?

Roy was made sick by the idea. He pushed the case away from him and sat back in his chair staring up at the blank ceiling thinking nothing. This lasted for several minutes, and was stopped when Ed arrived at the office blushing.

"Send Hawkeye to find me?" Ed asked miserably, shutting the door behind him. "Dozens of soldiers in the building, plenty of man power, but sure, send the one who saw us making-out, and embarrass the shit out of me."

Roy stared at Ed, and in his head he saw the small font of the case report. _Young, eighteen. _The boy was probably local, the boy could have been Ed's height, Ed's complexion, had Ed's tendencies, or humor, or sarcasm. The boy might have had as much promise, but whatever he had, it was the right to life, and someone had just murdered him. Someone had stolen everything the boy had, and the robbery kept Roy silent, in a morbid sense of respect, in a depression of sadness for the unknown boy.

"What's the matter with you?" Ed asked, beginning to frown. "You look," Ed paused, as if he had a joke ready, but was starting to wonder if things were too serious for jokes. "Are you," Ed began, the question comfortably: _Are you sick?_, before his eyes widened with worry and he said, "Oh my god, is she going to tell on us?" Ed's tone was flabbergasted, as if he couldn't believe Hawkeye would do such a thing. "She's not going to tell on us!" Ed added quickly. "What the hell! I mean, it's our decision!"

"No," Roy said, closing his eyes. He pushed the case file from his mind. He put his task back on his plate. "No, Ed, relax." He gestured Ed a chair before his desk. "I know I said I'd see you later, but I need you taken care of now." Ed approached, and dropped into the chair with a heavily annoyed, and exaggerated, exhale. "Your absences are just shy of beginning corrective action." Roy took Ed's folder and opened it. Inside were several fresh sheets of paper, and he glanced over them quickly. Hawkeye had provided an Informal Warning document, and Roy quickly scribbled in the information requested at the top of the form. "If you keep this up you're going to force me to take disciplinary steps." He read through the form quickly entering his name, identification number, Ed's name and identification number, their tiles, and the date and time.

"What are the disciplinary steps?" Ed asked.

Roy looked up from the form and said sternly, "They are avoidable, so it does not matter." He slapped the form down, and turned it around to face Ed. "Come to work on time, and when you're supposed to. Anymore recklessness may begin effecting your pay and benefits. You know what happens when the military becomes annoyed, and you don't like it when your leash is tight."

Ed's right eye gave a small twitch of anger and said, "My schedule has always been flexible."

Roy knew where this argument was going, and in a warning tone, said, "Ed."

"You know I am working on a project right now," Ed said angrily, stabbing his metal finger down onto the paper. "This reigns me in, I can't operate under these hours. You know I am busy!"

"I don't know anything," Roy said exasperated. "Are you telling me you're researching something?" he asked, with a bit of frustration. Ed's eyes narrowed with irritated accusation, misunderstanding Roy's statement for patronizing sarcasm. "Think carefully," Roy said angrily. "Are you telling your commanding officer you are in the midst of an unapproved and undocumented research project?" Ed's expression went tight with his precariousness. "You're going to force me to make you open one," Roy warned. "Don't do this," he said, lowering his voice. "That's what it will come to."

"I am not opening one."

"Then come to work."

Ed looked to the paper with disgust. "I am not signing this."

"You have to sign it."

"The military can't_ make_ me sign it!" Ed cried, snatching the paper up and giving it a vicious shake as if he wished he could wring the paper's neck. "They can't make me sign I'll behave, and I am not stupid enough to do so!" Ed threw the form back at Roy's desk. "I have things to do. You promised me when I started this charade I'd be able to investigate and develop what I needed. That's my right and privilege as a State Alchemist." Ed threw a finger into Roy's face, and Roy did not recollect using the word promise.

"That is correct," Roy said, keeping his agitation in check. "But the right and privilege of your certification comes under the guidelines set by the power providing them, and the military says you must abide by our other codes." Roy took a deep breath, and said calmly, "Coming to work is not too hard Ed. It really isn't." He picked up his favorite pen and offered it. Ed looked at the pen as if it were a dagger. "Ed, you do understand that regardless of what we are, I am still your commanding officer, and so your misdemeanors become my responsibility, and my responsibility is the military." He kept the pen extended. "That means I must warn you when you are getting yourself in trouble, I must warn you it will escalate if you do not redirect your actions, and you have to sign acknowledgement of the conversation." Roy extended the pen another inch further, but Ed ignored it. He looked ugly with distaste, and Roy sighed.

Roy set the pen down and pulled the Warning back toward himself. He turned it to face himself and beckoned Ed come to him. "Come here," he said, relaxing to a kind and approachable demeanor. Ed sulked around the desk and stopped at his side, looking down at the Warning as if expecting new direction, but Roy had other plans. He slid his chair slightly to the side, making room for Ed's body, and pulled Ed downward to sit in his lap.

Ed went wire hard, as if he'd been pulled to sit on glass. He choked a soft and frantic, "Roy!" shoving to be let go, but Roy clung tightly. He had snaked both arms about Ed's waist, and he went from restraining the boy to hugging him.

"Ed, you're so fussy," Roy said, leaning his head into Ed's shoulder. Ed wiggled them irritably, shoving at Roy's wrists, wanting to be released. "Is this what it will come to?" Roy asked, envisioning a world where every order Ed disagreed with resulted in the boy sitting in his lap. "I'll get nothing done," he said, tone detached as he fantasized. "I'll have to keep the door locked all the time. It will just be so obscene. I never saw this coming."

"You sick pretentious schlemiel. Let go of me right now," Ed said, keeping his voice lowered, but fierce.

"But you're so fussy."

"I am not fucking fussy!" Ed said, wiggling his torso in an angry twist trying to squirm free. "Don't describe me like that. I am angry that our iniquitous leaders think they can use me when it's convenient, and keep me stationary when it isn't!" Ed gave a valiant yank forward, but Roy held strong. "If they could, they'd peg a stick to the parade yard, and leash me to it like a dog made to fucking wait."

"This has nothing to do with any of that," Roy said without judgment. "You're sour you're being scolded, and sour you're getting in trouble for your actions. That's all."

Ed went mute with Roy's accurate attack. It was harmless in delivery, but it still held the sense of being caught in a spotlight. Ed jerked his elbow back into Roy's chest, pressing to get free, but couldn't find a single thing to say. That was the nucleus of it, and he didn't want to admit it! He needed this research, and he couldn't have the military involved. Things had changed, and while he needed their support to search for the stone, he needed them to back off so he could finish this project. _There was a reason they brought mom back in the basement and not the backyard. _New science was always illegal until it was deemed legal, and therefore, Ed believed, that every great scientist was once a mad scientist. He didn't fear venturing forward and being called a mad scientist, but he was wary of being caught.

Irritably Ed sat on Roy, staring at the Warning on Roy's desk with Roy content to hold him like a body pillow. It was clear to them both his stubborn resolve was crumbling, and they felt the silence coming to a close, although it was unsure who would speak first, when the office doorknob turned.

Ed ran, bolting from Roy's arms, and Roy too, let go and helped push Ed forward. When Hawkeye entered, Ed was standing before Roy's desk with his shoulders pulled up to his ears, and his face red hot with a blush. He was staring at his feet as if hoping desperately not to be noticed, and she glanced from Ed to Roy with confusion.

She felt the intruder, and quickly said, "I am sorry to interrupt." She nodded toward the hall, and Roy stood.

"I'll be right back," Roy said, leaving his desk. "Do not dismiss yourself," he ordered firmly. He left with Hawkeye and outside his office she stepped very close to him, and lowered her voice.

She had a new manila folder and she opened to it a gruesome crime photo Roy had already seen. "This just came in," she said, moving the photo to the top of report below it. "They've analyzed the blood pattern, and recreated what portion could be."

Roy took the folder, and studied the large red stains. A black and white image of the photo was created in the report, and below it, a series of images zooming in on specific target points. In each one it became slightest easier to see a pattern in the blood. Lines that looked as if they had been made with wet fingers, and the curdling abrasion of wet chalk, until the last picture made it clear. It was alchemy, unmistakably a portion of a transmutation circle, and unmistakably three of the directing symbol were Marsisisms.

The bit of transmutation evidence obtained and what it was attempting was outlined in the report and explained to Roy's clueless self. It scared him, not in violence, or intent, but in skill. This was not a common psychopath using alchemy, this was a superlative alchemist, and they were mentally and ethically ill.

Staring at the photo Roy said, "Find me the name of every alchemist who worked on this project." He closed the folder. "I want to know who they are, and I want to know where they are."

Hawkeye left Roy's side like a bullet. She had a specific way of moving when focused, and though Roy would never share it with her, he often felt that she fired out of him when their priorities and sentiments were angled in the right direction. Together they created a cross hair, but she always went before him. _She was always the bullet._

Roy stepped back into his office tucking the folder beneath his arm and froze on sight of Ed sitting in his desk chair.

Ed wore the mischievous and pleased expression of a child aware they were breaking the rules. He had made himself comfortable, leaning back, feet up on the desk, and chair swiveling softly from side to side. It was as playful as it was bored, and Roy looked to the toe of Ed's boot. It was tapping the air with a speed and insistency that symbolized unrest. Already Roy could see Ed's mind working the situation of his absenteeism over in his mind, and Roy paused, watching Ed from the doorway.

It had at first appeared that Ed was staring off at nothing, as the tilt of his head suggested, but with closer inspection Ed was glaring at his Warning. His eyes were narrow, angry dashes of gold, and Ed dragged his flesh hand down his face before sitting up, and loudly plopping his feet back to the floor and his hands to the desk. With a scowl of deep loathing, Ed lifted the form and read through it, twice. Then he slapped it down, and used Roy's favorite pen to scribble his name across the bottom. Roy felt satisfied, until Ed threw the pen at his inbox, and a stack of papers let loose.

Ed dove for the mess, whispering a loud, "Oh crap!"

The overflowing inbox was too close to the stack of victims. A slew of papers busted out onto the desk as if the inbox had been gutted, while the pillar of victims began the slow, but steady, tip of a building toppling over.

"Crap!" Ed stuffed his hands to the bottom of Roy's inbox, as if it were a river he could damn up with his palms. He was struggling between the two evils, the spilling inbox, or the falling stack of manila files. With the victims beginning to fall, Ed abandoned the inbox to grab the top of the tipping pile, with a louder, "Crap!" Frantically he was pushing the pillar upright, stuffing things sliding out back in, and pressing downward on the entire stack, as if he could plant it to the desk.

For the most part this worked. The middle of Roy's desk was a flood of his inbox, but the most complicated documents had remained correct. With the tower of folders safe, Ed began putting papers away. He did this quickly, wearing a rigid frown, until a sheet of something caught his attention, and he stopped.

Ed lifted a single piece of paper from the pile, and from the doorway Roy could see Ed's eyes reading in frantic bobs. _Unlike a piece of bureaucratic BS about absences, Ed was interested in what he had found._

Roy stepped into his office and shut the door behind him loudly. Immediately Ed's eyes leapt up, looking guilty and caught. "That is illegal, you know," Roy said.

Ed lowered the paper quickly, as if it were on fire and he wanted to escape it. "I—I," he sputtered. "I didn't mean—I mean, this fell—I wasn't, had to, was putting it back and…" Ed's flustered scrambling began calming to a slow formation of a dark storm. "I mean, your papers fell." A tense look of accusation was twisting Ed's brow into a tight single wrinkle. "I wasn't looking on purpose, but…" Ed lifted his eyes to Roy, and the gaze held betrayal. "How can you keep the information I am busting my balls for, right here on your desk?"

The answer was very simple and surprisingly complex.

Roy went to his desk and took the paper from Ed's hand. He looked it over and was relieved it was a simple overview on the recent murders with nothing too specific other than the military's suspect Marsisisms were involved.

"For your own good," Roy said, returning the paper to the correct pile. He said nothing about the paperwork-vomit over his desk. "And because the topics aren't necessarily related. Someone using this method in crime doesn't have anything in common with," he stopped himself before he said anatomy development, something Ed had not shared with him, and said, "anything else."

"Yes it does," Ed said, with fierce conviction. "You know it does!" Ed's indignation welled like black clouds. "Are you going to try and tell me the same array used to burn a piece of firewood has nothing to do with what you'd need to burn a building?" Ed asked, with outraged skepticism. "As if you're not talking to another alchemist, you'd try to feed me that bullshit!" Roy thought for sure things were going to escalate, when Ed reached out and snatched his hand. "Roy," Ed said, tone suddenly going soft. "Help me learn," Ed said, anger abandoned.

Ed moved to turn toward the desk and available research, but Roy used Ed's grip and squeezed down, keeping Ed in place.

"I want you safe," Roy said, with absolute seriousness. He took Ed's hand and held it tightly between both his own. _This meant everything._ "These cases are unstable, and whoever is behind them is not a genius Ed, but a madman."

Ed took his hand away. "All great scientists were once considered mad." Something in Ed's face looked as if this confession wounded him. "We thought the curving horizon was part of a flat Earth at one time, that the stars were gods, and the sun was not a burning mass of fire, but is it so hard to believe that sometimes, what you think you're looking at, is actually what you're looking at?" Ed kicked out a soft disappointed breath, "When did we become afraid of discovery, and forget that X marks the spot colonel?" Ed turned his gaze to the door looking thoughtful, and said, "I have to go." He wanted to keep his agenda, and there was something about the reality of their placement in this office, that felt sickly like an inutile spinning military ballet he didn't want to see. Roy hands were shackled with martial law to conduct it, the same way he was chained into the dance. It was what they had asked for, the equivalence to the exchange. It was unspeakable power, blasphemous power, god-defying power, and the price for it? The ability to own it, and not be free to wield it. The coerced application of your talents, because you could not rid them once you owned them: _they owned you._ The equivalence was the greatest sale and greatest purchase, and it wasn't power in exchange for loyal service, it was yourself in exchange for your dream. _And what good was a dream, when you lost yourself in the process? The finish line offered, and nothing to cross it. _

Roy sat back in his chair and studied Ed's sudden contemplation. Gaze on the door Ed slipped his hands into his pockets and left his musings for a traditional look of annoyance. "I have to go," Ed repeated, turning and leaving. "Thanks for taking up my time, life, and thanks for being such a jerk-off with your paperwork." Ed paused, hand on the knob, and gave Roy a wide cheeky grin that said: _what do you think about my cute inappropriate comments?_

"Did you take my pen?" Roy asked, he had noticed it missing from his desk.

Ed's face tightened when his antics were ignored. He thought his joke was well played. "Yeah, it's in my pocket." Ed pulled his hand from his pocket and flipped Roy the bird before slamming the door on his way out.

Roy found it difficult to fight back the laugh this caused. His new relationship with Ed had sapped the venom from Ed's words and made, what were once horrible things, enjoyable. No matter how lucrative, his bond with Fullmetal was growing at a fantastic rate. Alarmingly this was bringing focus to much of Ed's madcap tendencies, and destroying Roy's ability to fault them. Edward was evolving from a bumptious adolescent prick, to an innocent persnickety twink with two metal appendages, and Roy knew if Ed learned he thought this, the boy would kill him.

There was a brief knock on Roy's office door, and Havoc stuck his head in. "Sir?"

"Havoc, are you doing anything important right now?" Roy asked.

"Considering we're not at war, define important."

"Go to a local store and buy me an expensive pen fashioned so its exterior is red and black, then take the day off."

Havoc was stunned He went mute, staring blankly at Roy before quickly saluting. "Yes sir!" _He nearly left running._

If Fullmetal felt the need to steal pens, Roy decided he would buy the boy one. Ed's impudent joke and vulgar mannerisms had brightened the afternoon, and Roy tore into his inbox with vigor. He was linked by title alone to many projects within the military, and this kept reports streaming his way. The hours drained as the piles dropped. Small projects, and chips of larger projects moving from inbox to outbox.

It wasn't until late afternoon, after Roy had filed a politely worded denial to transfer his men anywhere as a band aid to incompetence, that Alphonse appeared at his door. Roy was digging back into the murders, and was hunched over several photos, and lab reports, when Alphonse knocked and snuck in.

"Sir, I am sorry to come and see you unannounced," Alphonse said, approaching Roy's desk wearing his infantry pants and boot camp shirt, sweating heavily. "But I need to have the rest of the day off and I didn't know who could authorize that on such short notice." Alphonse looked as if he'd stopped mid obstacle to come make this request. "I figured you were the one to see about it."

Roy found this confusing. "Are you all right?"

"Yes sir."

Roy set his pen aside and pulled Alphonse's personnel folder from his stack. "I was actually going to call you in here later Alphonse, so your arrival is rather convenient." Alphonse gave an impatient shift of his weight, and Roy paused. He lifted his gaze with a bit of annoyance, and although Alphonse looked itching to be released, he corrected himself to stand At Ease and went still. "You're being recognized for your hard work and effort as a soldier. You've earned yourself a raise." From Alphonse's folder Roy took a duplicate of Alphonse's promotion and extended it. Alphonse took it looking shocked. "Congratulations, and thank you for being such an asset to the military."

"Thank you," Alphonse said, battling his stunned expression. "Sir." He read the paper in a frightfully quick glance. "Is my title still, a State Alchemist?" Alphonse sounded a bit clueless, and Roy smiled.

"Yes, you are still a State Alchemist." Somehow, despite it all, the Elrics were political dummies. "But surely you don't think every State Alchemists makes the same pay, or has the same benefits."

"I…guess not," Alphonse said softly, absorbing this idea quickly. No, the less fruitful, the less forceful, and the weak, did not get what came to the strong. "Does this mean my request is approved?"

Roy had expected Alphonse to be more excited with his recognition, but instead Alphonse took it humbly, and was moving on, as if it were forgotten. "If it's important enough," Roy said, giving a pause, but Alphonse said nothing. "And I believe it must be if you're asking for it." Roy paused again, but Alphonse was respectfully, and secretively, silent. " Yes, of course." Roy surrendered. "Approved."

Alphonse broke a wide smile. "Thanks Colonel, have a great day!" Alphonse left sprinting for the door, and Roy barely had enough time to wave. Alphonse was charged with motivation, and Roy found this perplexing. _What would motivate him so?_ Curious, he contemplated Alphonse's personal schedule, but all that came to mind was Edward and Cindy.

Roy called downstairs and Cindy answered the front desk. "Hello, front desk, how may I direct your call?"

"Cindy, it's Colonel Roy Mustang. What time are you out tonight?"

"Oh—hello Colonel." Cindy startled into speech, intimidated by his rank and confident voice despite the fact she'd seem him enjoying himself at the lake house. Back in office, dressed in formal Amestrian blues, he was a force to be reckoned with_. _"Um," Cindy said, understanding the question with confusion. "What time? Well, I am working a mid-shift today sir, so…not until ten." She sounded worried he was asking, but didn't address it.

"Thank you." Roy hung up, and sat tapping his pen into his desk. He was certain Alphonse's primary motivators were Edward, work, and Cindy. If Alphonse was already at work, and Cindy was also at work, that only…

Roy stood up, grabbed his keys, and left. On his way he stopped by Hawkeye. She was on the phone and lowered the receiver to her chin looking confused when he held up his keys.

"I am leaving and I'll be calling in twenty minutes or so." He could hear the muffled caller, and knew she couldn't answer him but wanted to. That his abrupt exit worried her the same way Alphonse's worried him. "Everything is fine," he said kindly, before firming his tone. "I want you to find Fullmetal and put him in my office." He left her desk, and heading into the hall, called, "Don't let him move until I come back!"

Roy took the stairwell down to the locker room. Alphonse would not be able to leave without checking out with his Training Officer, and Roy wanted to see what reasoning Alphonse gave the man.

The lower left wing was filled with education rooms, training rooms, and the locker room. Often called, The Incubator, by soldiers, this hot bed of baby chicks housed their up and coming soldiers. A loud slew of adolescent males doing the things adolescents did. Most were infantry, but some were not yet soldiers, and they were all either working out, running orders, or goofing off.

Roy was too late to get what he wanted. By the time he had made it to Alphonse, the boy was giving his Officer a salute, and leaving quickly with nothing but a few dismissive waves and shouts to the good-natured shenanigans which came his way. He was in a hurry. His pace was quick, and he brushed off his co-workers and exited out the back door leading to their D Section parking lot making good time.

Roy stopped following in the building's exit with confusion, but Alphonse jogged out into the parking lot and climbed into a parked car. _What! _Roy was dumbstruck with the idea the Elric's had a car on base. _From who? How!_

With Alphonse turning the engine, Roy went running for his own. He was in A Section with other officers, and running full speed he fled to his car, and peeled out. Perhaps with luck alone he caught up to Alphonse so he was several cars behind. Carefully he maintained his distance, switching lanes inconspicuously, and tailing closer until it was possible to see Alphonse impatiently drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. For a boy without a license, and what should be no experience behind the wheel, Alphonse maneuvered the car with a skill for aggressive road rage, taking corners sharply, and running the yellow lights. After twelve minutes on the road, he pulled into Central General Hospital, and Roy felt the beginning of concerned agitation rise within him.

Roy parked a ways away, followed Alphonse through the lobby, and kept a safe shadowing distance_._ Alphonse went directly to the Emergency Room, but bypassed the main station, and began navigating the halls by routing through the room numbers as if he were looking for one in particular. The Emergency Ward was loud, with busy nurses, ringing phones, and too many pedestrians for any hospital wing. There were crying children, loud families, and individual's nursing wounds, but Alphonse saw none of them. He found the room number he was looking for and knocked.

Roy hung back, taking station at a hallway payphone and holding the dead receiver to his ear. He watched Alphonse knock, and then call a, "It's me," before stepping back with a heavy sigh. It appeared someone was answering from the room, but Alphonse wasn't approved to enter. For a moment he stood looking lost, like a bloodhound deprived his scent, before taking a seat in the empty waiting chair outside the room. He relaxed, leaning his head back into the wall and kicking his feet outward. The position did not look as if Alphonse expected this to be quick, and making mock use of the phone, Roy decided to actually use it.

He called Hawkeye's desk and she answered in a standard greeting. "It's me," Roy said, "Did you find him?" There was no reason for Alphonse to mad dash to the hospital, and the only possible reason which came to mind, was a reason Roy did not want.

"Sir, I am sorry. I can't find Edward anywhere," Hawkeye said. Roy closed his eyes and mentally addressed his anger. He gave a slow heavy exhale to control it. "It doesn't look like he's in the building anymore."

"Thank you. I may be a while, but I will return to office as soon as I can." He disconnected and waited. Alphonse was left outside the exam room for over ten minutes, and sat obediently staring at the parallel poster in the hall. He wasn't impatient, as Ed would have been, and he didn't look angry, as Ed would have been. Alphonse, just like Ed, had a core trait which ran like a single artery within him, and where Edward's was intensity, Alphonse's was empathy. _He was waiting patiently, for his brother, Roy was certain of it._

A nurse exited the exam room with a tray of bloody cotton balls, and unrecognizable steel equipment. She spoke briefly to Alphonse, who appeared to be thanking her, and when Alphonse entered the exam room, Roy walked quickly down the hall and stopped the door from shutting with his hand.

As he had suspected, feared, and dreaded, Ed was in the room.

"Nii-san!" Alphonse exclaimed, rushing to Ed who was laying on the exam table in his underwear holding ice to his head. "What the hell happened! I got here as soon as I could." Alphonse went to Ed's side and gestured to Ed's body with a sweeping gesture of his hand.

"They won't let me leave without someone," Ed said softly, sounding half asleep. His body was limp, across his left shoulder was a dark bruise, and upward near the bag of ice, Roy could see the skin was red as if he'd been struck. "Let's get out of here," Ed mumbled, slowly pushing himself up with a deep wince.

"Nii-san, are you able to leave?" Alphonse asked, taking a firm grasp of Ed's shoulders to keep Ed's wobbly self stabilized and safe. He sounded more than skeptical Ed was ready for discharge.

Ed simply lifted his flesh wrist, where a hospital identification wristband had been fastened to him, and took it between his teeth. "It's just a stupid concussion," Ed complained, muffling his words about the band before tearing at it with his teeth. Ed gave up after two weak attempts, and dropped his hand to his lap. Graduating to the suffering tone of one with a migraine he said, "I just couldn't leave on my own Al, now let's go." Ed pushed off the exam table slowly. He kept a tight grip on the side for balance, and Alphonse was hanging on tight. "I can sign my own discharge papers as long as—and I have to go to work." Ed grabbed his pants off the pile of his clothes in the room's single chair, and then closed his eyes as if the lighting was too bright.

"Nii-san I want to speak to the doctor first. I can't believe I had to come all the way down here. Don't you think that's rather serious?"

"I think it's rather obnoxious," Ed said miserably, opening his eyes to give Alphonse an irritated glare. Alphonse looked reluctant to argue, but also reluctant to agree. It was obvious Ed needed to lay down, and therefore needed to go to bed, but he also looked as if he needed a doctor. Ed recognized Alphonse's concern and dropped a reassuring hand onto Alphonse's shoulder. "I am fine," Ed said kindly. "It's just a concussion, I am a little dizzy, vision a little blurry, but that's it. No other symptoms." Ed gave Alphonse's hesitant expression a wide smile and single squeeze to his shoulder, before moving to a tone of anger. "Now I want to leave, I have work, let's go."

"Okay nii-san." Alphonse surrendered, but said firmly, "But we're going to talk about this guy and you. You're agreeing to that if you want to be discharged."Ed groaned a drawn out whiny sound in protest, and tipped his head back as if suffering. Ed's expression was the disagreeable wince of one who knew this was coming, but was hoping there was still more avoiding which could be done. "I mean it nii-san." Alphonse's tone was nonnegotiable.

Roy left the door and returned to headquarters. He had learned all he needed to know, and not all work could be shirked for his personal life. He would have to take this up with Ed later, because this was the rational and reasonable thing to do. He focused on this thought as he drove angrily, walked angrily, and angrily tossed himself into his desk chair, as if he were attacking it with his body. Yes, the reasonable thing was to discuss this with Ed later. Wanting to march into the exam room and yell at the boy was not reasonable, and while reminding himself again and again he was a dignified man, and respectable colonel who did not strangle attractive young men for being selfishly reckless, his desk phone began to ring.

Roy snatched it. "Mustang," he barked.

"I am sorry to bother you sir," Fuery said, sounding worried with what Havoc called his furious-colonel tone. "But there is a Chris Dillinger calling for you and he says he has an appointment." Roy heard a few papers rustle. "I don't have him on any of our records, but he's been rather insistent."

"That's fine," Roy said, feeling his anger give way to curiosity. It was unlike Chris to call him at work, or really to call him at all. Everything which needed to be said came by verbally at the lake house during a summer-dressed impromptu arrival, where Chris was carrying a six pack and wearing a smile. "Go ahead and transfer him in to me Fuery." Chris gave a big singsong hello, but Roy was not in the mood. "Did you find anything?" he asked hopefully.

"Did I find anything." Chris scoffed at the idea the challenging task he wanted to pretend was trivial might give him any trouble. They both knew researching into military secrets was hard. Fullmetal was testimony. "Roy, is this line safe to talk?"

"Yes."

"Okay, well it seems Melander is not only deeply embedded in Marsisism research, but he's the true founder. Melander studied in the big lab up East until two years ago. He was discharged for what the military's listing as raw acts against science. It's too muddled to figure out just what this raw act was, and my hunch is that there wasn't one. It looks like Melander's knowledge base might have simply grown out of control, and the military either became too nervous, or down right scared. Coupled with his personal problems, it looks like his removal was deliberate."

"What do you mean?" Roy asked, drumming his fingers into his desk. Most of this he already knew, and the rest he had assumed.

"Melander lost his wife in a car accident only a year before his discharge. Three months after her death he began the detailed cell research most glamorously understood as Marsisisms. Melander was fascinated with the cell growth because he was obsessed with his dead wife. He was checked in to more than one hospital, and his file is littered with dirty words like hallucinations, dementia, and a diagnosis of schizophrenia. While all of this sounds like a nasty recipe for disaster, I kept waiting for the phrase Human Transmutation to rear its rude head, but it didn't. While Melander was unhealthily obsessed with his wife's death, he didn't have any intention of attempting to use alchemy, Marsisisms or other, to resurrect her. Melander wanted the research so he could recreate his wife's face and put it on another body."

"That's ridiculous," Roy snapped.

Chris hummed in agreement. "Obviously, but apparently he was trying to work around human transmutation with the idea it required too much energy to be feasible, sneaky cat." Roy found this idea fascinating. Most alchemists who fell prey to a mania-breeding resurrection accepted Human Transmutation because they had long ago surpassed rational analysis and didn't see it as starkly impractical. To have Melander's mental diagnosis, hand-in-hand with this exact scientific analysis, was eerie. "From what I can tell, this attempt is what got him booted out."

"He actually attempted to do this?"

"I can't find any documentation that he did, but I can find a convenient gap of documentation in almost all areas. Suddenly, Melander has three months where his research and actions are unaccounted for, and afterward, the military is taking legal action. Sounds like he tried it to me." Roy had to agree. "Right now his whereabouts are unknown. Rumor is he's continuing his research, but no one is quite sure. He had a passion for his wife Clarissa, and according to the picture of her I obtained, she was a stunning woman. I am going to fax it to you with a run down of everything I just summed up."

This was the best news Roy had received all day. "You're a good friend Chris."

Chris laughed. "As thanks why don't you have your California Roll tan outside for a bit, huh? Preferably al natural, you know how mean tan lines can be." Roy smiled with the thought of Ed tanning naked on his deck before shivering with the thought of his own neighbors spying on them.

"I have to go. I won't forget the favor."

Chris departed and Roy was left in front of his paperwork chewing on this new information. Melander was mentally unstable, and so much so they'd discharged someone at his skill and production level from the field. Chris was right to assume internal fear. Despite what Shou Tucker did to his wife and daughter, the military planned to keep him because they did not fear him. They were interested in the process of turning a human into an animal, and owning a skilled alchemist who possessed the talent and not the ethics. After his false execution he was given a fully funded research budget and a staff to command in secret. To cut ties from Melander, when he suggested reanimation and redesign of living tissue, the risk of scandal and danger must be grave. Tucker may have been ill, but he was complacent, and therefore the only assumption was that Melander was volatile.

Ed needed to stay away from that man: that was the end of it. Roy didn't date laterally due to the fear of war and death. The reality of military dating, meant that life threatening risk could arise through the state of the country. A soldier could be sent to war, killed, and the lover was left to ensure the death. Roy found the paralysis of such powerlessness too great for him, and vowed to never date a soldier. _An alchemist was something _else. Their skills and defenses were comparable, and because the military prized them, they were never deployed as individuals; they were deployed as teams, like executioners. This risk of an alchemist being struck down in war was much less than that of a soldier, and Roy was not comfortable with Ed, as another alchemist, trying to turn their statistics into that of infantry soldiers.

Roy closed his eyes and linked his fingers below his chin to rest. He managed only a minute of mental peace before Havoc knocked, entered silently, left a small gift wrapped package on his desk, and took off after a fast salute.

Carefully, Roy began planning what he was going to say. He was going base his argument on the foundation of his justifying rationale, and clearly tell Ed Melander was dangerous, and therefore must be avoided and arrested.

As certain as he was that he could not endure this temerarious nonsense, he was certain, Ed was not going to want to hear this.

* * *

Woohoo, here is chapter 12, thank you thank you!

I don't have much time for a note today – but please try and leave a review for me. (I am on vacation and posting for you! _Posting for you!)_ Lol, not to mention I have been carrying chapters of Board of Squares to the pool and editing with my little red pen. I probably look like a nut in my big sunglasses and bikini, holding this polite stack of papers and adding commas and reversing words. (I fuss! That's what I do when I edit, fuss! Most likely unnecessarily, but certainly with true enthusiasm). Not to mention one of my favorite fun drinks, a Mimi Vice, is called a Lava Flow over here, and I always forget that the first order. _I'll take another thank you, and put a paper umbrella in that baby._

Chapter 13: _Give An Inch and Lose A…_ will be up next 09/12/13, my chaotic Thursday.

For those of you sending messages, yes, it is certainly going up, and yes, it will be earlier in the day than normal.

Thanks all!


	13. Give An Inch and Lose A

This chapter is rated MA for Mature Sexual Content, Graphic Scenes, and Yaoi Material  
Reader discretion advised

* * *

Foolish For You  
Chapter Thirteen  
_Give an Inch and Lose A …_

- mirage -

Roy found Alphonse chewing a pen and reading on the front steps of the barracks later that evening. With a book far too fat and advanced for the average soldier, Alphonse was wearing cargo shorts and a logo tee shirt with his short spunky hair in every which way. He was an inviting presence on the doorstep, like a friendly golden retriever.

"Hello Alphonse," Roy greeted as he approached. Alphonse looked up and stopped chewing his pen. "Enjoying the outdoors?" Roy asked. Adding Cindy to Alphonse's right arm seemed appropriate to Roy: One cute young person for another.

"I am starving," Alphonse said. "Want to get a pizza with me?" Roy stopped alongside the boy with surprise. "You're not going to want to go in, nii-san is studying." Roy wasn't sure what this meant, but bravely he stepped over the few books Alphonse had scattered along the stoop and entered.

"I brought him something," Roy said, confident Ed would stop any task for his presence, never mind a gift.

Alphonse rose to his feet and collected his books in a hurry. "When you become discouraged, and learn I am right, then will you get a pizza with me?" Alphonse asked, following Roy up the stairs. Roy gave Alphonse a scolding look. _He was not going to let Ed ignore him, and he doubted Ed's current activity was as embellished as Alphonse made it out to be._

Roy opened the door to the Elric apartment and stopped. It had, somehow, been transformed into a sea of papers.

"Don't touch anything," Alphonse warned.

The Elric apartment looked as if a sheet-paper hurricane had sped through the center, blanketing and burying the apartment with sheets of loose leaf, graph paper, and text book photocopies. They covered most of the floor, turned the two couches into mounds, like white knolls of snow, and inside the chaos, discreet at first glance, was some slice of organization. Papers were not thrown, they were placed. Things were not heaped, they were piled. As if a desk was not enough work space, the apartment had become the workable canvas.

Carefully Roy stepped over the few sheets in front of the door and entered.

"Careful." Alphonse cautioned again. "He knows where everything is and I don't want to hear the rant he has about people touching." Alphonse sounded weary. Roy crossed the floor as if crossing a moat of lily pads he needed to avoid. "There is a speech for such acts and it starts with, I have everything right where I know it is." Roy glanced over his shoulder when he arrived at the bedroom and Alphonse was still standing in front of the main door. Alphonse gave a smile and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll wait," Alphonse said happily.

Roy peeked into the bedroom and it was the eye of the storm. Ed was sitting in bed wearing cargo shorts and a Central Command tee shirt typically given to infantry soldiers, writing furiously into the notebook on his lap. All about him notes and textbooks spread outward like white rays from a golden sun. Ed was consumed in every way Roy thought he could understand it, and derogatorily, as if Ed were capable of only one function, and this was it. This was not just mental, it was physical, and sitting stationary, hand scribbling at an irate speed, Ed's breathing pattern was controlled, and his body was moving in the most subtle swaying rock. The entire act looked autistic, and that was how Roy thought of it, as if Ed's brain were greater than his body, and demanded all available resources, leaving the rest handicapped.

The scene was as frightening as it was astounding, and Roy looked back toward Alphonse, but the boy was patiently waiting, and with the unsure glance, Alphonse's smile widened just the smallest bit.

To attempt Human Transmutation at the age Ed had, there was no denying there was something unique about the boy. It was printed in Edward's file in small military code, and it meant the military was interested. Twelve-year-olds were not permitted to take adult standardized testing anymore frequently than they were admitted into Amestrian R-rated movies. Yet, along came Edward, and there he sat, and there he passed, when many adults failed. He came tromping into the military ranks with a wide smile and his head empty of social grace, business politics, military tactics, and even basic people skills, but full, _full, _of science. He could not understand the soldiers' jokes, remember to keep his voice down in meetings, and understand why he had to attend events in their entirety to be polite, but he could understand physics, biology, and alchemy, better than some of his lateral adult counterparts. Moronically Roy knew the tiny Edward he imagined tucked into a farm house bed, reading a book in preparation for the death defying feat of returning his mother was inaccurate, but it was hard to imagine what would be accurate.

_Until today._

This was what was missing from his interpretation of what a person smart enough to understand something he could not, did in their spare time. This was not the calm and quiet studying of a young soldier, college student, doctor, or engineer. This was a ravenous consumption of raw data. It was ugly, looked unnatural, but felt hungry, and almost violent. Ed was eating, mentally, as if starved, fact, after fact, after fact, and his brain was stringing it all together in a giant strain of anthropogenic law.

The avidity. The avidity of it!

Roy licked his lips, hesitating. Ed looked like a clawed monster who might attack blindly before coming to recognize him. "Ed?" he called, keeping a kind and rather quite tone. Ed did not respond. His right hand was flying over the page, automail hand, flipping pages in his text books, moving things closer for reference and then shoving them away. _Roy felt certain, if Ed picked up a pen with the metal hand and started writing with that one as well, he was leaving the room._

"Ed?" Roy raised his voice and waited. Ed continued writing before stopping to arrange three sheets of paper in front of him so he could draw across them. With mounting impatience, Roy pronounced Ed's name sharply, as he did in the office, "Edward," and Ed looked up.

Ed responded to his name with habitual instinct, and then gave several quick blinks, as if disconnecting his mind from one topic and reassign it to object recognition. "Hey," Ed said, looking surprised. "I am…ah—that is I am busy." Ed returned to his work. "Sorry," Ed said, writing across the three pages of notes he had constructed. In a distracted drawl, he said, "I won't…be…too…long…" Roy could see a rather rectangular array drawn over two of the sheets, and he was confused with its skewed appearance. "…I won't….be too long," Ed repeated, grabbing a legal pad and flipping through a few pages. "So…I am sorry."

Roy watched Ed work feeling defeated. Alphonse, tired of waiting, came to stand at Roy's side with a grin. "I wouldn't advise even talking to him because until he's done he won't really hear it," Alphonse said. Roy became irritated. "Although, I would suggest you stay, nii-san does this at random, and it stops as suddenly as it begins. When he's done he'll be hungry, tired, and affectionate." Alphonse gave a playful shrug. "For you, that might be more of a bonus than it is for me." Alphonse left, heading back to the front door stepping over and around papers. "How's about a pizza!" Alphonse called, rubbing his stomach with exaggeration.

Alphonse ordered three for pick up, all with extra cheese, one pepperoni, and one mushroom.

"I hate mushroom pizza Alphonse," Roy said, following Alphonse back up to the Elric dorm carrying the warm mushroom box. He could smell it. "I like them in other dishes, but not on pizza."

"Nii-san likes em," Alphonse said, opening the apartment door. He walked in, heading toward the kitchen, and stepping over notes with a talent that implied he did this often. "Pizza nii-san!" Alphonse yelled.

"Get me a slice!" Ed yelled from the bedroom.

Roy stopped at the door to visually navigate his way to the kitchen, before slowly beginning the process. Several feet in, a shuffle from one foot to the other sent a page of notes fluttering from its original spot. Holding the mushroom pizza box Roy stared at the sheet of scribbled notes and considered whether he should correct it.

"Pizza in the kitchen nii-san!"

Roy snatched the page he'd relocated, and took it to the kitchen. Alphonse stood at the counter already cramming a slice into his mouth. He hadn't done more than sit the box down and grab one. Chewing quickly he was feeding the wedge in to his mouth like a log into a mill.

Roy extended the sheet of notes, and Alphonse took the page with a smile. "Well," Alphonse said around the pizza. "If you throw your work everywhere, I guess it can't be helped." Alphonse sat the page near the sink and retrieved two dishes. He handed one to Roy and on the second laid a slice of cheese, then a slice of mushroom on top, before an upside down slice of cheese on top of the previous two. "You see Roy," Alphonse said, pressing the three slices tougher. "This is what nii-san calls, a pizza sandwich."

Teasing in a flat tone Roy said, "Take the mushroom out," and Alphonse laughed. "He'll eat all three of them like that?" Alphonse nodded, squishing the pizza slices together. When it was set Alphonse glanced to Roy with an expression Roy had never seen. _Alphonse was smirking. _Not cruelly, but with that familiar Elric twinkle of sly cunning engagement.

Alphonse extended the tiny dish of pizza slices and said, "Would you bring this to him?" It were as if a light bulb had lit in Alphonse's head, and Roy could see the gears turning with devious, but playful, overture.

Roy looked at the greasy slices smashed together in a mound of leaking cheese stuffed with mushrooms, and took the plate. He didn't think he understood the situation, but at the same time, he felt he did, and asked, "Why do you help me Alphonse?"

Alphonse's cunning expression grew, so the smirk was wide. "I don't mind helping," Alphonse said, offering a shrug. "My brother likes you Roy, and I want him to be happy. If he wants you to be happy, then I will help deliver you."

_Deliver you,_ these words repeated in Roy's mind, and he stared at the pizza feeling like a piece of packaged meat. Was that how he fit into the equation of things? Something Ed had like a toy? _When had Ed begun managing the upper hand? _The idea was hypocritically fantastic considering Ed had been the trophy Roy happy possessed for years.

"Nii-san can be very particular," Alphonse said, moving to a more instructional tone. "I understand it takes some time to…get used to." He went to the refrigerator and filled a cup with soda. _Empathy, Alphonse was empathy._ "Take the cup and dish, and sit it on whatever surface he is using, but be careful you touch nothing. That is very important, never put things on his notes, and don't touch his work in anyway." Roy took the cup nodding dumbly. "Don't speak, just wait, he will acknowledge you."

"Okay."

"This is going to earn you serious brownie points," Alphonse said, sounding happy. "When he acknowledges you, you take it from there, and earn yourself some more." Alphonse broke a wide sinful grin, and Roy wanted to shiver. _What, you want me to fuck him? _Roy thought, lips giving a restrained twitch when he stopped himself from asking this aloud. Was Alphonse opening the door on that type of…brazen comfort? Roy hesitated, considering how brass Alphonse had spoken to Ed, and then decided to go with it.

"You want me to nail your brother?" he asked, as flabbergasted as he was enthralled with Alphonse's waving flag of support.

"Oh," Alphonse said, stepping back with an exaggerated visual wince. "That wasn't exactly what I was saying," Alphonse said quickly, suddenly looking embarrassed.

"I didn't mean to offend you," Roy said, disappointed Alphonse seemed capable of being a crude audacious shit to Ed, but had a line in the sand with him. "That was forward and I apologize."

"Well, you know, it's just…" Alphonse trailed off, running an uneasy hand down the front of his shirt, before waving at Roy to leave. "Just go give him that."

Roy wasn't opposed to earning himself brownie points, sexual or other, considering he planned to have a serious discussion strongly encouraging Ed to reconsider his study of Marsisisms, To say he had a sneaking suspicion Ed would not appreciate this put it nicely. The consequences of Edward's refusal Roy had not contemplated, but he knew they would be extreme.

Roy crept into Ed's room. Ed was now working at his desk, with a sea of papers smearing off the bed, and into his new work station. Carefully Roy approached, and silently, he set the cup and plate on a closed textbook. Presenting Ed with food now, felt much like feeding a hungry lion, and he didn't want to get bit.

Ed was hunched over three books writing fast enough to fill multiple lines a seconds. It only took four for Ed to respond. "Thanks Al," Ed mumbled, glancing quickly at Roy and the dish for affirmation it was food, before giving Roy a fast double take. "Roy," Ed corrected himself. "I mean, thanks…Roy," Ed said, sounding shocked.

Roy smiled, and as Alphonse suggested, he seized his opportunity.

He leaned down, cupped Ed's cheek in his hand, and set his lips to Ed's forehead. He didn't kiss, but inhaled the smell of Ed's hair. Tenderly, he dragged his lips down Ed's temple, and bit the top of Ed's left ear. He did so twice, and quickly. First with affection, and second, in the playful fashion of a dog chewing a bone.

Ed was dead still.

Roy stepped back, and Ed stared up at Roy looking stunned and utterly disconnected. His golden eyes were wide contemplative windows, and Roy could feel that his action was a malfunction inserted into a perfectly operating machine. Ed had stopped his studying, and temporarily, seemed unable to restart, or start any other system.

This delay lasted a long moment. So long Roy was beginning to speak when Ed suddenly stood. He moved quick, jumping up at attention, and giving a fast approving nod. Ed turned to his food and mumbled, "Okay," before grabbing the pizza sandwich and eating straight through all three slices until he met crust. Roy was about to stop Ed, in fear he'd choke, when Ed tossed the crusts onto his plate, and dove at Roy with enough strength he shoved Roy back into the wall.

Ed was like a pouncing cougar, with both hands on Roy's shoulders for the shove, and then lifting them upward he grabbed Roy's jaw in a fierce grip, and crushed their mouths together. Roy was shocked with the kiss, and didn't respond. Ed took no notice. He pressed their bodies flush together, with extra force in his hips, before mauling Roy's chest to rip his shirt open.

Digging into Roy's dress shirt like he was digging for gold, Ed spoke a muffled collection of pizza disfigured words Roy couldn't understand.

"What?" Roy asked, keeping his voice down for privacy, before adding, "Ew Ed, mushrooms." Ed repeated his food muffled nonsense, and Roy repeated, "I don't like mushrooms."

Ed stepped back impatiently, and yanked Roy forward by his lapels. Ed was a soldier, and with Roy unassuming, Ed used a military take down move to pull Roy forward, trip him, and knock him back onto the note covered bed.

"Ed, your notes," Roy said quickly, feeling panicked they were crushing Ed's work, before feeling like an idiot for thinking such a thing. Ed crawled up him. "You can't get mad at me later," Roy said firmly, pointing a finger at Ed's chewing face. He was not going to be blamed for things being crinkled, ripped, or, pending he was lucky right now, stained.

Ed pushed Roy's pointing hand aside, swallowed what was in his mouth, and dove into Roy's neck kissing frantically. Roy took advantage of the situation, and Ed's bent position, to grab the boy's ass in tight handfuls before stroking his right hand up and into Ed's hair. Their mouths met, and Ed tasted like cheese pizza and disgusting mushrooms. He was out of control, pushing insistently against Roy's jaw as if trying to climb into Roy's mouth. The kissing was fierce, hungry, demanding, and then suddenly ended as fast as it started.

Ed jerked away, ripping back and disengaging. Roy was left panting, sprawled on his back with his shirt open, and Ed straddling him.

"What?" Roy asked, catching his breath. Ed wiped his mouth, and began a quick series of nods before climbing up. "What?" Roy repeated, not yet ready to ask the obvious. _Where are you going!_ Ed couldn't start something hot like this and then stop cold! There were demanding arousals that needed satisfying now!

Ed extended an opened palm in the universal sign to stay put. "Um," Ed muttered, getting his voice under control, before raking his hands down his shirt to straighten it, and clambering to his feet. His body pulled papers with him. They stuck to his knees, slid off the bed, and Roy pushed a text book further from his head. "Um," Ed said again, clearing his throat. "Um, Alphonse!" Ed called, backing to his open bedroom door and leaning into the woodwork. "Al, could you—ah—can you go take—a walk or something?" Ed asked, forcing an innocent inflection to his guilty-guilty question.

Roy had lifted his head, and he let it flop back onto the bed when he understood what this was about. _So, we weren't banging with the brother in the house._ Alphonse answered Ed in a deliberate whisper so only Ed would hear, but the irritated tone was audible. Roy imagined Alphonse saying, _'you can't be serious,'_ or _'I don't do this to you!'_ or _'there is no where I want to go, selfish brother of mine.'_

Ed ran his hand through his hair with Alphonse's response and fumbled a bit. "Well…" Or maybe Alphonse was being cruel and saying, _'What for nii-san?' _"Um…cause," Ed mumbled, raking his hand back through his hair as he caught his breath. "Um, cause, please?" Ed rephrased, sounding as if he approved of this bushwa. Alphonse was quiet, and Roy began a silent chuckle. "Please?" Alphonse started an angry stomp to the door and slammed it behind him.

Ed watched to verify Alphonse was entirely out of earshot and off the premises while frantically unfastening his shorts. When the door slammed, Ed dropped them to his ankles and dove at the bed.

Ed clawed things apart to get into them. The automail was intimidating and it ripped Roy's fly downward splitting a tear that reached almost to Roy's right knee. Ed was so aggressive Roy stopped trying to verbally understand or communicate within the first twenty seconds, and simply used his larger body to push Ed's smaller frame however he wanted it. Their sex was like a wrestling match and twice, once while Roy was sucking Ed's right nipple hard enough he knew it would be sore for days, and again, while he was kissing down Ed's navel, Ed bit him.

The first time it was Roy's shoulder and he jerked it away and pressed his palm to Ed's face. He turned Ed's head quickly to the side like he would that of an animal who needed to learn better, and the second time he snapped, "Ed, don't bite me," rather angrily.

Ed had Roy's left palm sideways in his mouth like a Frisbee when Roy pulled his hand away, and grabbed Ed by the chin so harshly he later worried it would bruise. He crawled upward so they were nose to nose.

With Ed nearly hyperventilating, and stroking his own erection, Roy kissed Ed deeply. He didn't stop until Ed began struggling for air. They didn't speak again until Ed had sucked his way down Roy's chest, attempted the second blow job of his life, became too assertive with his fingers in areas Roy felt the top did not offer to the bottom, and found himself on his back. With the automail leg in Roy's tight right grip, and Ed's left leg half over Roy's shoulder, Roy feasted on Ed's incredibly sensitive perineum to the music of Ed's continuously groaning exhales.

Roy had slipped his thumb into a crevice of the automail where the wiring was located. This was what was called a maintenance duct in automail terminology, and this specific one happened to agitated the nerve in Ed's groin muscle through one small blue wire. It wasn't painful, but as Roy had recently sought Ed's military file for automail information after that one frightening night, he had learned a great deal more than he had previously. Ed's file contained extensive details on both appendages for medical purposes, and provided a warning this wire sent tiny, almost electric inducing, shivers upward.

Ed was in tightly aroused agony with Roy zapping him while chewing, licking, and sucking everything he was. Roy ignored it when Ed ejaculated the first and second time, and although he wouldn't admit it, because he could only give one great outburst, the same way a missile launcher fired only one mighty blow, he was determined to press it as close to his limit of madness as he could get.

They spoke their second time when Ed realized Roy's tongue was going lower than the back of his scrotum, and then Ed arched his hips upward, clenching his rear in defense, and cried out, "Wait, don't!" This squirming, and Ed's whining vulnerability pushed Roy right to his limit, and he raised to his knees and took himself in hand to angle them together.

"Stay still," Roy said, breathing as if running for miles. A bead of perspiration was hanging off his nose, and either side of his face was damp with the sweat from Ed's thighs. Ed didn't realize they had reached the finale until Roy was mounting, and beginning the first stage of their penetration.

"Wait!" Ed cried, breaking out in a weak fight, trying to shove Roy up. Their entire engagement had been shoving, and Roy grabbed Ed by the hair, and pressed his mouth to Ed's ear.

"You lay still while you're fucked," Roy snarled.

"Longer," Ed choked. "Let's go longer! Prolong it!" Ed shoved weakly at Roy's chest.

"Ed, this is long enough." My god this was the truth. "We can't all keep coming like a fire hose." Ed's seaman had dried onto Ed's chest and Roy loved it. Roy pressed inward, and kept Ed's automail leg hiked up with his right hand, and his left locking Ed's head in place with a hostile grip on the boy's sweat drenched hair.

This was the first time they'd done missionary, and Ed had his teeth grit continuously growling sounds of lustful appreciation and false disagreement as Roy thrust. The speed was quick, and Roy felt Ed's body going stiff just as Ed began growing louder.

"Ed, don't you dare," Roy snapped, thrusting. Ed came, crying out, and Roy felt it spray up his chest between them. "Dammit Ed!" He tried to slow his thrusts as much as possible, but the thought of stopping was painful. "You need to wait!"

"I couldn't," Ed said, struggling to catch his breath enough to speak. Ed's entire face was red. Beads of sweat trickled off his forehead into his hair, and his bangs were plastered to his temples. Ed was shaking from his orgasm, and muttered a soft, "I tried."

"God dammit." Roy swore, stopping himself so he was embedded, but stationary. "Do I need to stop?" Ed didn't look as if he knew. "Can I keep going?" _This was unbelievable!_ "Dammit, this was so hot!"

"I can try," Ed said, sounding optimistic. Ed gave a hopeful nod, and Roy felt his anger fuel himself back into the aggressive sexual passion they had before. _He was not going to let it die!_

"You'll do more than try," he said angrily, grabbing Ed's face. Ed wasn't expecting it, and the grip was rude, digging Roy's thumb and pointer finger into each of Ed's cheeks so Ed instinctively jerked his head out of the grip. Roy recaptured Ed in the same fashion, held tighter, and yanked Ed's face toward his. "You'll do more than try you little shit." Ed's eyes widened with a bit of disbelief. There was no fear, because Ed still believed, and knew, he was capable of fighting off one colonel. Instead there was nothing but stunned shock, before, in a similar hurricane to what Roy felt, Ed understood what was happening.

"Then you better make me," Ed said snootily. "And don't call me fucking little." Ed turned his head to the side and bit Roy's thumb.

"Ow!" Roy pulled his hand away, and using his forearm, laid forward into the side of Ed's face so it was slammed to the side, and held there. "I mean it Ed! No biting!"

Roy withdrew and Ed didn't like it. He whined out a true sound of distaste, and kindly Roy said, "You're okay," while getting control of his legs again. With their bodies tethered together via his penis, movement was limited, but now that they were separate again, he moved Ed as he would a prisoner of war.

Roy flipped Ed to his stomach, pulled Ed's arms behind his back, and used them to jerk Ed upward. "Get up," he said darkly, dragging Ed into a kneel. "Get up." He shoved Ed forward into the headboard and wall, and Ed stiffened in the first sign of defense Roy had seen, and he was staying cautiously aware of them. "You're not the one who runs things around here," he said, reaching down and giving the right cheek of Ed's ass a tight squeeze. "Now spread your legs." Ed knew how to do this from before, and immediately opened his legs so he was kneeling spread eagle. Roy fought the urge to slap the adorable handful of meat that was Ed's right cheek. Although he thought Ed might let him, Ed seemed firm on this, so instead he slid his hand back to Ed's cleft and goosed the boy. "Now thank your commanding officer for this," Roy whispered, leaning over Ed's shoulder.

Ed's cheek was flush to the wall, and he was panting heavily. "Thank you, colonel sir," Ed whispered, raging hard already.

"You know what Elric, this nice wet hole of yours makes me want to fuck you into obedience, now what do you say to that?" he asked, loving Ed's hysterical panting. He had never been so grossly dominating or offensive in bed. He was thrilled the side Ed brought out in him aroused Ed as well.

Gently he gave his probing finger a soft twist as he withdrew it before sliding two of them up Ed's well-stretched entrance. Ed groaned with the sex he was mimicking. "I asked you a question alchemist." Roy gave his fingers a fast six thrust assault on Ed's vulnerable rear. "Can you answer? Or do you need your face fucked as well?" Immediately Ed stiffened, and cried out. Roy paused with a bit of confusion, before making sense of what just happened.

"God dammit Ed!" Roy snapped, withdrawing his fingers with Ed panting excessively into the wall as he came down from his peak. "Do we have to stop now?" Ed was shaking with his orgasm, and Roy thought it was incredible they'd managed to continue the third time, and was certain now they'd have to stop.

"I'll…" Ed managed.

"You'll try?" Roy asked angrily. Ed began nodding an uncoordinated weak movement, but Roy had enough. He grabbed Ed roughly by the hair and pressed Ed flush to the wall with his body and hand. "You'll do more than that, now get hard this instant Ed." He had no idea if this would work. Ed was shuddering so hard Roy didn't know if it was possible for Ed to manage another erection, but was relieved he didn't have to worry about the boy having a heart attack. "Get hard, because you're getting fucked, and you'll learn to come when it's time to come, or you'll learn to bend over anyway."

Roy angled himself back into Ed's ass, and in one fluid thrust upward, fully embedded himself so the perk of Ed's cheeks were flush to his pelvis. He'd never entered so aggressively. The sensation caused him to stutter a senseless sound of pleasure, but Ed jerked when impaled. Ed's back snapped straight and he squeaked out a sound of surprise.

Roy pressed onward, and with his hand holding Ed's head by the hair, and his other, holding Ed's hands behind his back, he began pounding the way he wanted to. Whether Ed was opposed or not in the beginning, Roy was not sure, but soon the boy was continuously crying out, and turning his rear up so it was more accessible. Things escalated so greatly Roy had to release Ed's hands so Ed could grip the headboard, and keep himself in place. They were slamming the bed repeatedly into the wall so their sex sounded like violent drumming.

"You ready to come now!" Roy yelled, hanging onto Ed's hips and beating them with his pelvis.

"Yes sir!" Ed cried. "Yes colonel sir!" Ed screamed into the wall.

Roy came so hard his vision blurred and small white specks flashed. If this were a common occurrence he'd worry about getting a mouth guard, because his jaw was sore directly after he shot his load and realized how tightly he'd clenched his teeth. He felt himself pulsing inside Ed, pumping outward as if he were firing organs into Ed's bowels, before becoming limp and slipping out.

He dropped back to his heels groaning and exhausted. The sight he left was unbelievable. Ed was clutching the wall, slumped down on his knees with his body glistening with sweat, his hair a lion's mane of tangles, and seaman dripping down the inside of his thighs.

"Oh god that's hot," Roy said flopping back into the bed of paper. They had cracked the sheetrock all about the headboard of the wall, flaking bits of it into the sheets, and knocking small puzzle piece shards into the pillows. Ed was coughing into the wall as he tried to manage his breathing. "Ed." Roy didn't know where to start. Ed was climbing up slowly with shaking limbs looking slapped six ways from Sunday. The side of his face beat red from the wall.

Roy extended a hand, and Ed looked over and tried to reach for it. "Come here," Roy said, sitting up, and pulling Ed forward so Ed collapsed along side of him. Sheets of Ed's notes stuck to Roy's sweat drenched back, and every move they made crinkled. "Ed, that was amazing." He pet his hand down Ed's wet snarled hair. Carefully he snuggled Ed up to his side, pulling Ed's arm over his chest, and hugging the boy. "You were amazing, are you okay?" Ed nodded softly, still struggling to breath and shuddering. "Do you feel okay?" He ran his hand down to Ed's perky rear, but Ed pushed him off at once. "Does it hurt?" he asked, becoming concerned.

"Don't touch," Ed rasped, eyes closed and resting. "I am fine. Just let me be."

Roy smiled and gave Ed's nose a kiss. "You're my own personal Pandora's box Ed." He stroked his hand down Ed's back, rubbing the boy's shoulders reassuringly before giving him a second tight hug. "Later, I'll tell you how absolutely amazing that was." Ed was nearly asleep.

For half an hour they lay together drying and becoming crusty. Then Ed pushed himself up, looked at the broken wall with disinterest, and fixed it with alchemy. Ed's body was still partly wet with sweat, and ink from the notes had smeared onto parts of him. Papers clung to him when he stood, and Ed plucked them off casually and staggered his way to the bathroom. He returned fresh from a quick shower, wearing boxers, with his teeth brushed.

Roy left and did the same before returning to find Ed sitting at the desk in his notes with two more dishes of pizza.

"You're not serious," Roy said, shocked Ed had returned to work. Ed ignored this and continued writing. "Ed, are you really doing this now?" he asked, glancing at the clock. He didn't consider himself an overly affectionate member of the gay community, but after sex which breaks sheetrock, he didn't think it was too much to ask to lay and cuddle for the night.

"Yes I am."

"Ed," Roy said, exasperated. He began stripping the bed. Eating, Ed looked up with confusion. "We have to change these sheets, they're disgusting," Roy said, swiping the papers to the floor. He pulled the sheets off and wadded them up. Then he paused, and glanced at Ed with a sly smile. "Not only did you nearly drench them with your own enjoyment, but I was graced with the incredibly arousing sight of watching me drain out of you when we were done." Ed stopped chewing and grew a blush so bright he looked ill. "Yes, that's right." Roy walked to the door. "I loved it," he said, "and next time I'll make you bend over so I have a better view."

Roy left Ed choking on his pizza, tossed the sheets into the Elric's dirty hamper bin, covered Ed's bare mattress with Ed's single comforter, and lay back down. He was waiting for Ed to exhaust himself and come lay down, but Ed seemed consumed with correcting his wrinkled notes and working further. Roy fell asleep, and satisfied, slept peacefully until Ed woke him rushing to grab the ringing phone.

Ed picked up the military required landline in the Elric living room. "Hello?" Roy pulled part of Ed's comforter over his head to drown out the noise. "Right now?" Ed asked. "No, of course. I am ready." Ed hung up and returned to the bedroom in route for his closet. "Sorry I woke you," Ed said sweetly. Ed pulled jeans out of his closet and began hopping into them. Roy uncovered his head and looked at this with confusion. "You snorted when you woke up, and I almost burst out laughing," Ed said, smiling.

"Ed, why are you dressing?" Roy cut right to the chase.

"I have to go somewhere real quick. I'll be back in an hour or so." Roy was flabbergasted. "I'll be right back, I promise. Go back to sleep." Ed pulled a long sleeve shirt on before coming to the bed and leaning in for a kiss. Roy snatched the front of Ed's shirt to stop this action.

"Where?"

Ed closed his eyes. "Roy."

"Where."

"Roy listen," Ed said, laying his flesh hand over Roy's. "I will be right back. I don't want you to worry."

"Then tell me where you're going."

Ed licked his lips, looking reluctant. "I am going somewhere that is important to me," Ed whispered. "You need to let me go." Roy frowned with this statement. He didn't want to let Ed go, and the implication he might have to, he found unsettling. As two adults, he understood it wasn't his place to set limits, but didn't he have some say in what was going on around here? Ed's secret appeared to be a dangerous one, and that wasn't fair. "Roy, I swear I'll explain. Please trust me," Ed muttered, dropping his gaze. "Give me some time." Ed's tone went softer, becoming embarrassed with the situation, and Roy released the boy's shirt. "Not now, okay?" Ed asked, desperately seeking a truce. "It's ten, I'll be back by eleven. One hour."

"One hour," Roy said firmly, snuggling back into the comforter. "Bring food when you do. I don't like old pizza." He rolled over and went to sleep. For now he would trust his lover. The Fullmetal Alchemist could survive one small outing alone.

* * *

Roy awoke when someone jabbed him in the shoulder with their finger. Cracking an eye, Alphonse became visible standing alongside Ed's undressed bed looking exhausted and freshly showered in his underwear and a tee shirt. "Colonel, do you know where my brother is?" Alphonse asked, scratching lazily at his stomach.

"What?"

"Ed."

Roy rolled to his back with a heavy exhale. "Yeah, he went out and he'll be back by eleven. I hope I am not inconveniencing you." He was too tired to care if he was.

"It's almost two," Alphonse said, sounding a bit annoyed. Roy was quiet with his mind going slower in his sleepy state. "Colonel?" Alphonse's frustration was increasing. "I said it's almost two, two AM, it's almost two in the morning. Where is he?"

Roy looked at Ed's bedside clock and it was 1:59. He sat up quickly. "Ed left approaching ten."

"Where?" Alphonse demanded.

"He wouldn't say," Roy said, becoming confused himself. Alphonse walked to Ed's mess of a desk and looked over the notes quickly. "Said he had to go." Alphonse lifted a few papers before leaving the room with a frustrated breath.

"I came home around nine, and since nii-san was doing his thing, and you were sleeping. I went downstairs and hung out with some guys we know!" Alphonse called, moving around the house. "I got back an hour ago, showered, ate, and just bravely came to see what was going on in the bedroom." Roy groaned with the jab. "Colonel, does anyone know you're here?"

Roy didn't know what Alphonse meant by this question. "No, why should they?" he said, speaking loudly so Alphonse would hear him.

Alphonse returned to the bedroom doorway holding a manila envelope. "Hawkeye does," Alphonse said, holding it up so the front penmanship reading '_Colonel Mustang's Eyes Only_' was visible. "It was slipped under our door."

Roy climbed out of bed and stretched. After his shower he had thrown on his under shirt and boxers. Now he looked around for his pants to make himself more decent. Alphonse waited, and after Roy put them on, he took the envelope and opened it. Inside Hawkeye had written a note reading 'Sir, I assume you're here because the phone continuously rings at your place. These came in addressed to you and seem important.' She said nothing about his whereabouts or what he was doing, and he appreciated it.

"I recognized her writing," Alphonse said.

Roy sat down and emptied the folder into his lap. There were several photocopied documents and a photo. "Who is that?" Alphonse asked, pointing at the photo of a woman. "She looks like a nice lady." Roy ignored the photo, and looked at the documents. One was a list of degrees and schooling, before interns and research groups. There was an entire sheet of experiments, and three others of chemicals, compounds, and formulas. "Is she sending you homework?" Alphonse teased, picking up the photo just as Roy began to understand what he was looking at. The last page had an unmarked list of dates that looked useless until Roy noticed the small initialed CD at the bottom. _Chris Dillinger._ _This was Melander's information._ Chris had obtained more, and Hawkeye had forwarded him Melander's information! There was a military personnel cover sheet with the name blotted out, but all the other metrics were there! Melander's alchemic capabilities, his direct reports, his units, his weight and height, and the man was a colossus. His physical strength charting was impressive, and Roy felt himself panic. _Ed had two metal appendages serving as sword and shield, but there was something to be said about people four times your size. _

"What else did my brother say?" Alphonse asked, playfully tapping the photo into an open palm. "I don't want to sound silly but…I am kinda worried about him. He always calls."

The fifth document was a summary of Chris's research further expounding on the fact Melander's wife was killed in a car accident that ripped her face off. She was thirty-two, but only five foot five with long blonde hair. _Roy felt his stomach start knotting up._ She had helped encourage Melander's research and been a life long partner at his side. Suffering a tennis accident when she was only sixteen her right hand shook slightly, and she was unable to pursue the chemistry skill Melander required, and this helped keep her out of the limelight.

Roy scrambled to his feet. "Alphonse." He tossed the papers to the bed and turned all of his attention on the younger brother. "Ed leaves and goes to see a man. A scientist." Alphonse looked shocked Roy knew this much. "To study Marsisisms, where?"

Alphonse was unprepared for the sudden interrogation, and licked his lips uneasily. "I am not sure."

"Where," Roy demanded angrily.

"Colonel, I don't know." Alphonse became annoyed himself. "He doesn't tell me. He just goes and then comes back."

"You understand if you know you need to tell me now." Roy turned to the bed and began stuffing the papers back into the folder. _Melander was a psycho. The wife, the details about the wife, this was the missing puzzle piece somehow, and he felt certain Ed was in danger!_ Somehow Melander was doing with her, what Tucker had done with his daughter. It was irrational, unpredictable, and hostile.

"I know he's hurt your brother before," Roy said, unsure if Alphonse was being honest.

"You think my brother is in danger?" Alphonse asked, becoming alarmed. "Why?" Alphonse looked at the envelope. "What does that say? What are those papers?" Alphonse reached for them, but Roy moved the envelope out of reach.

"I need to know where he is Alphonse." Roy took Alphonse's arm in a demanding grip, and Alphonse startled with the uncharacteristic action. "Whatever he made you promise not to tell me, you need to forget." Alphonse was still holding the photo, and Roy snatched it and held it up for Alphonse to see. "This was Melander's wife. His dead wife." Alphonse looked at the photo with confusion. "Melander is mentally unstable and a threat to you brother. I have a personal hunch Melander may think, or may sometimes think, Ed is her, and that's why he's been teaching him."

"That's crazy!" Alphonse yanked his arm away. "And how do you know nii-san is seeing Melander!" Alphonse asked, something close to accusation in his tone. "Did he tell you that!"

Roy threw the folder and photo at the bed, and went for his dress shirt. "I do not have time to bicker with you Alphonse. I am asking direct questions and I expect direction answers." _His professional colonel side was raging._

Alphonse responded immediately. "I am giving you my answers sir! But I don't understand what this means."

Roy yanked his shirt on. "I think Melander is trying to recreate his wife's face for another body, and your brother is almost the same height." He was buttoning it quickly. "Not only that, they share several disturbing similarities. Their interest in Marsisisms is simply the greatest." He was dressing frantically and his panic was contagious. Alphonse picked it up, and his expression was tight with worry.

Roy's stomach felt fat with dread filled anxiety. Mentally he was scolding himself for allowing this stupidity to continue! "Melander is going to attack Ed." Roy finished dressing, and grabbed the envelope and photo before giving Alphonse a dark stare for his lack of cooperation. "If not today than soon." He left stomping for the door carrying his shoes.

"Wait!" Alphonse yelled running to the closet. "I want to come too! He's_ my _brother!" Alphonse came quickly, hopping into cargo shorts and rushing to follow. Roy gave Alphonse just as long as it took him to get his shoes on, and Alphonse was frantically dragging a wrinkled pajama shirt over his head in shorts and flip-flops when he came to the door. "Where do you think he is?" Alphonse asked, locking it behind them as Roy stormed into the hall.

"He wouldn't say," Roy said. _He was going to kill Ed._ "But I think I have a soldier who knows."

* * *

Havoc was so drunk he barely understood there were people in his apartment. With a tight grip on the lapels of Havoc's uniform, Roy kept a steady pat on Havoc's cheek hoping he would return to some level of coherency.

"How long is it going to take for him to sober up?" Alphonse asked, sounding more than worried with the current situation.

Havoc was slumped over on the tiny couch inside his dorm with an empty vodka bottle and the beer cans left by the evening's guests strewn about. Curiously Alphonse picked one up and took a sniff. The smell was disagreeable, and Alphonse tossed it aside becoming frustrated.

Alphonse dropped his hands to his hips, standing in his mismatched clothing looking as exhausted and disheveled as Roy, and in a flat angry tone said, "Colonel."

Roy ignored this and worked on Havoc. He gave Havoc's cheek a strong pat, muttering, "Focus soldier," before letting the man go. Havoc was looking at them, but managing only groggy blinks. "Havoc, I need more information on where Fullmetal has been going? What address?" Roy knelt at the side of the couch, but Havoc had been partying since his early release, and would have passed out if it wasn't for the face tapping. Roy was no slouch, when he had time he had combed Havoc's false uniform report, and noticed that the address Havoc though Ed was going to could not possibly be accurate, because it changed too rapidly, and Roy did not think Melander was scurrying his secret research base about daily. This meant Ed was losing Havoc either on purpose, or by accident, near where he was going, and making Havoc think that was the destination. Roy had confronted Havoc on this, and looking a bit discouraged Havoc could only shrug and say he tried his best. _Roy believed that. _Now, Roy dragged a hand down his face, regretting his decision not to address this with Ed about as much as he regretted giving Havoc time off.

Alphonse left Roy's side to search around. Havoc's dorm was much smaller than the Elrics because Havoc was a soldier, and not an alchemist. The apartment was something Roy would barely consider two rooms. Rumor had it soldiers usually paid or traded favors with alchemists on base to build walls and functions into the dorms to make them better, and then returned them to their original state when moving.

Alphonse wandered to Havoc's wall-length kitchen for a quick once over, and then returned to the couch rather annoyed. "Colonel," Alphonse complained. "There is no information here. There is nothing but pictures of girls." Roy lifted his gaze to Alphonse feeling exasperated. "Why would Havoc know where my brother is anyway, sir." When Roy first posed the suggestion Havoc might, he felt Alphonse's curiously surprised glance come his way, but the boy had remained silent. Now Alphonse was addressing the elephant in the room. _Why in the world would Jean Havoc, out of all of them, know where Ed was?_

Roy dragged his hand back down his face and pushed himself to his feet. "Because I had your brother followed." He wasn't going to lie about it. He turned to face Alphonse, and Alphonse did not look impressed. "I had him watched."

Alphonse was disgusted, but unlike Ed, kept his expression in control. "My brother is a loyal person Roy," Alphonse said quietly, in a tone that was nothing to sneeze at. "He won't be unfaithful. That's very low."

"Dammit Alphonse," Roy snapped, tossing a hand up to bat this insinuation away. "Not for that reason." He was shocked Alphonse would so greatly misinterpret his intentions. "If I thought that was what he was up to, he'd be more apt to walk around with a black eye than a soldier on him." He gestured angrily to Havoc's slumped and drooling body. "I wanted to know why he was missing so much work. His absences are substantial, and not only that, he leaves the building on his own, coming and going as he pleases. Ed's only motivated by what I'd classify as: strong causes. I wanted to know what the current one was, and I know he's seeing Melander."

Alphonse looked a bit concerned with the comment Ed might be punched in the eye for sleeping around. "And how exactly do you know this?" Alphonse asked, with the same cautiously skeptical tone Ed had used when confronted with information Roy had learned spying through the Elric door. "You didn't answer me before. Did he say so?" Alphonse sounded doubtful this would be the case.

"He told you so."

Alphonse narrowed his gaze accusingly. "And how do you know that?" Alphonse asked. The boy was sitting right on top of the idea this knowledge was not acquired ethically, but couldn't embrace it. _No, we had just a bit more respect for the colonel then that._

Roy gave his face another rub and remained silent. Alphonse was chewing on his bottom lip trying to figure this out without arriving at the idea Roy would actually spy on them.

"Melander is a dangerous person," Roy said. "I know he's struck Ed before." Alphonse neither admitted nor denied this. Roy firmed his expression and his tone. He was the colonel, and he would use his title and work his voice to take the upper hand. "I forbid him to see the man anymore," he said. "Do you understand that?" he asked, ready for Alphonse's objection, but it didn't come. Alphonse's expression did not change as Roy thought it would, instead Alphonse continued a look of deeply concentrated thought and analysis before speaking.

"I understand," Alphonse said slowly, choosing his words, "that you and my brother are a team now, and therefore," Alphonse glanced at Havoc's shitfaced expression, "you aren't really in a position to order him to do anything." Alphonse's words were a scolding, and Roy was stunned. Confidently, Alphonse finished with, "and he'll see it that way as well."

Alphonse glanced one last time at Havoc before leaving. "Havoc's useless. I am going home to read nii-san's notes," he announced, walking with purpose toward the door.

Roy looked at Havoc. The man's head had lulled to the side, and he was snoring softly. Havoc smelled of Jack Daniels and lemons, and Alphonse's footsteps were fading down the hall.

* * *

End.

Hello again dear readers! I really hope you enjoyed this one! I don't have much time to leave a note - but please, leave a review for me! The chapters are picking up speed and things are about to get really good!

Next chapter up 09/27/13...you're going to like it :)

Enjoy!


	14. Standing In Traffic

Foolish For You  
Chapter Fourteen  
_Standing In Traffic_

- mirage -

Regardless of whatever Ed thought he was investigating, Melander was a danger to the boy. If the man had hit Ed before, he'd do it again, it was almost a certainty. Roy wasn't so much worried about a few bruises as he was Ed's entire body. Ed had a lot of nerve inviting danger after allowing them to develop, and Roy planned to forbid Melander, and his teachings, as soon as he had his hands on Ed.

He did not sign up for an emotional rollercoaster, and he expected more from Ed. _He expected better._

Alphonse was stalking ahead of Roy in his pajama shirt, loose cargo shorts, and flip-flops looking as if he hadn't slept in weeks. With a tight frown, and bags forming beneath his eyes, Alphonse was more disagreeable than Roy had ever seen him.

"My brother dates all of his notes," Alphonse said, speaking loud enough Roy would hear him even as he charged ahead. Roy felt himself to be following Alphonse in more than one way. As if he would eventually find the other side of the Elric-barbell if he just kept in this direction. "I want to look at the recent dates and see if he references anything which will tell me where he is."

Roy was keeping a safe distance from Alphonse because the longer Ed was missing, the more aggressive Alphonse was becoming. Outside the birds could be heard chirping in the still darkened sky, and as they were driving back to the Elric dorm, Alphonse was becoming cruel and snappy with his comments. With an angry thrust, Alphonse jammed his key into the Elric door and looked to Roy. "You can't look at Ed's notes," Alphonse said firmly. "He wouldn't want you to, and I don't care if it's to find him, I'll look first."

"That's stupid," Roy said angrily. _Really! They were going to become this petty when Ed was missing!_ Loudly he said, "Alphonse, if there is a chance I can find him," but Alphonse interrupted with an angry, "He said his notes are classified!"

Alphonse tossed the door open and stomped in for the bedroom. Many of the notes on the floor had been cleared earlier by Ed, but what was left, was not being treated kindly by them. "So I don't care what you have to say!" Alphonse went to the bedroom and slapped the light switch up before stopping dead. The halt was so abrupt Roy almost walked into Alphonse, but he caught himself. In confusion, he looked into the bedroom and came to realize, moments after Alphonse, that Ed was no longer missing.

Sleeping on top of his comforter, with all limbs, save the hand in his pants, sprayed out, Ed was on his back snoring.

"Nii-san!" Alphonse exclaimed, rushing to Ed and shaking his shoulders.

"What!" Ed jolted to life and weakly made as if to sit up. "I am up!" Ed declared, dropping his head back to the bed and closing his eyes. "Okay, I am going to work," Ed mumbled, brushing Alphonse's hands off and returning to sleep.

Alphonse's excitement and relief vanished. "Nii-san!" Alphonse cried angrily. "Where the hell have you been!"

Roy considered the word hell, this four letter, non-offensive word, to be the first time he'd ever heard Alphonse come close to swearing. Alphonse's tone, and the strength of his words, was enough for Ed to immediately crack an irritated eye.

"Sleeping," Ed said miserably, rolling over and hugging his pillow. "Go to sleep." Alphonse gave the back of Ed's head a hard smack. "Ow!" Ed reached back and rubbed it, before flinching when Alphonse hit him again. "Alphonse!" Ed rolled over with the pillow as a shield, and stood up, waking quickly. "What's your problem!"

"My problem!" Alphonse said, slapping a hand to his chest with insult. "I have been up and out all night looking for you!" Alphonse swung an accusatory point into Ed's face. "I thought you—I didn't know where you were!" Alphonse's anger was deteriorating into immense worry again, and he raked a hand through his hair with stress. "I was worried. You're such a—a freaking jerk," Alphonse said softly, looking wounded with Ed's thoughtlessness.

"You were out all night?" Ed asked softly, and with a tone of disbelief.

Alphonse nodded. "We broke into Havoc's and…tried to see if he knew where you were. We thought bad things might have happened." Ed laid a hand on Alphonse's shoulder to reassure him, but with the pronoun 'we' Ed looked up quickly, and spotted Roy in the doorway.

"You too?" Ed asked Roy.

"Yes," Roy said, tone unmistakably mad.

Ed was in a loose tee shirt and boxers with his hair in a messy pony tail. He scrubbed at his eyes as he woke up before giving his head a confused shake. "What the—I mean why?" Ed asked, flabbergasted by the upheaval his six-hour absence caused.

"You said you'd be back by eleven," Roy said.

"Roy didn't know where you were!" Alphonse said, in wild defense. "I realized at two you weren't home, and when Roy said you planned to be back at eleven, we—we realized we had no idea where you'd gone and why you weren't back!" Alphonse narrowed his gaze at Ed accusingly. "Nii-san I was worried, don't pretend like you being missing at two in the morning is normal."

"Okay, I am sorry," Ed said quickly, giving Alphonse's shoulder a rub. Roy saw this as passive appeasement, and immediately decided when Ed brought it his way he was going to reject it. _He was an angry colonel._

"Ed, you left abruptly, and would not tell me where you were going," Roy said angrily.

Ed gave Alphonse's shoulder another pat before approaching Roy. "I didn't mean for you two to be out all night like this. I got side tracked. I came back and you were both out. I didn't know where you went, but assumed everything was okay since there was no note." Ed gave a tiny shrug. "I knew you'd come back." Ed stepped closer and ran a hand onto Roy's chest. It was an intimate touch of affection, and Ed pet his fingers down the grove in the crest of Roy's ribcage. "Roy," Ed said softly, dropping his gaze and looking ready to apologize.

Roy didn't wait for this. "You promised me you would explain later. I was very worried."

"Yeah, about that," Ed said, averting his eyes uneasily, and saying nothing else. His tone said it all: _About that, I can't really do that yet. _

"Ed," Roy said, struggling to keep his rational brain working. He wanted to be level-headed through this. He wanted to give Ed the benefit of the doubt, and courtesy Ed perhaps didn't deserve, and he wanted to do so, because much of him wanted to strangle the boy. "This could have been different." Disclosing Melander's back story was going to be necessary for Ed to see this. "You can't see him anymore," Roy said softly, putting his cards on the table. Ed looked up with immediate surprise. "He's dangerous."

"See who?" Ed snapped, taking his hand away.

Roy was angered with Ed's false ignorance. "You know who."

"You can't tell me who I can and cannot see," Ed said, with a tone of building frustration. "Got that?" Ed tossed a finger at Roy, all affection gone. "Who do you think you are, saying that to me." Ed scoffed. "You think you're pulling rank here? Huh, think you're pulling rank!" Ed's snotty tone made it hard to stay civil. "Think you can order that because the military crowned you a colonel?"

_Keep calm, keep calm, keep calm, _Roy's mind chanted. Restraining his anger, Roy said, "I'd like to think I can say that because I am dating a reasonable and intelligent person."

"Oh," Ed said, becoming disgusted. "So now I am unintelligent, because I don't bow down and grovel at the words of the military's greatest Flame Alchemist." Ed stepped closer, narrowing his gaze spitefully. "You lost your rank with me when we turned this freak-show of an acquaintance into something more. You're Roy to me now, just like I am Ed to you. One of us is not a colonel, so you can't give orders like one! We're not having a relationship like that, anymore than we are having a conversation like that!"

"I am the colonel!" Roy snapped, feeling threatened. _He was the damn colonel, and his laws and rules were to be respected!_

"Not to me you're not!" Ed yelled back, before glancing apologetically to Alphonse. Alphonse was watching them, wearing an exhausted expression of general irritation and disappointment. "Sorry Al," Ed said softly, looking ashamed of their argument. He turned to Roy. "My brother needs to sleep, let's go." Ed gesturing they leave the room, and Roy obliged.

"I have to get up in forty minutes nii-san," Alphonse said bitterly. In a tone dripping with sarcasm he added, "_Thanks_, for the consideration."

"I apologized already!" Ed said, whirling back toward Alphonse. After the outburst Ed closed his eyes for a moment to grasp control. "I apologized already," Ed repeated, starting calm but escalating uneasily. "Don't attack me at the same time Al!" Ed tossed a hand toward Roy, and Roy realized Ed felt under attack, at the same moment he realized he was attacking.

"So if you go fight in the kitchen, you think, what, that I won't be able to hear you?" Alphonse asked in mock, still angry, and looking dismayed with Ed's current behavior. "I guess I'll just get some quick shut-eye, while you fight in the kitchen?"

Ed stalked out of the bedroom quickly, and Roy followed, anger swelling. Knowing Ed had been safe, and this was as simple as inconsiderate laziness made him want to pummel the boy. The fact Ed was still refusing to disclose his whereabouts despite the warning-situation, made Roy want to strangle him!

Ed stomped his way to the kitchen, but didn't enter. As soon as he approached the doorway, he stopped, and whirled to face Roy. In a low and vicious tone he said, "I don't know what you know about what I am doing, and I don't care. There are things that are important to me that you don't understand." Ed was very angry he was being challenged, and it was visible. His expression had darkened in a way Roy had never seen. Ed's brow had tightened, and his gaze was almost piercing. "Don't ever tell me what I can and cannot do," Ed said, in a soft and dangerous tone. "I am my own person Roy."

"You're still going to listen, because you need to listen to reason."

"_I am not your subordinate!_" Ed was furious. "You cannot give me orders, and I will not take them." Ed yelled, looking bowled over and hurt. "You're insulting me! I am not a fucking child anymore!"

"You're taking it the wrong way," Roy said, trying his hardest to keep his anger in control. Ed's wild antics in combination with his recklessness had Roy's head ringing. Desperately he was holding his anger tight, because if he lost it, he felt he would explode. "Listen to me, Melander is a dangerous man Ed, and he's not well." Ed's face went rigid and nervous when Melander's name was dropped. "I've had a friend looking into this, and I think Melander is spiraling toward something more reproachful than his original transgressions."

"Based on what!" Ed asked defensively. "Are they working with Melander! Have they had contact with him!"

"What difference does that make?" Roy asked angrily.

"It makes a world of difference!" Ed yelled. "A fucking world of difference Roy! If you want to insist you have this credible evidence, than I want to know how credible it is! Isn't this the evidence you're citing to impose restrictions into my personal life? Huh!"

"Ed," Roy said, taking a deep breath. "I am in actuality very angry right now, although I am not yelling. If you could make it easier to have this conversation, I would appreciate that."

"If you would make it easier to date, without becoming a possessive asshole, I would appreciate that!"

Roy took a step back, and turned away to keep himself in check. He began the low, very angry laugh of someone ready to burst, and Ed grabbed his arm. "I want you to respect what I am doing!" Ed said quickly, as if he sensed his last comment was out of line. His tone changed to one begging for understanding, and his grip was tight. "This is important to me, and I want you to respect that."

"Your safety is important to me," Roy shot back. "I want you to respect that." Ed snarled angrily. "Edward, this has nothing to do with age. It is common sense. This is the reasonable thing to do, you know it, and you're going to listen to that."

"Bullshit I am! I am not even entertaining your suggested imprisonment, got it! You want me safe! Fine, here I am!" Ed pointed toward the floor angrily. "I am safe! Here I am, standing here safe! That's all you're going to get Roy. I get to make the decision on what I do, and how safe it is, and I am taking your concern into consideration, and I plan to stay safe." Roy did not think Ed was taking his comments into consideration. Ed looked enraged, as if they had sprung an intervention onto an addicting habit he was frantic to keep. "What, do you want me to fucking call you so you can approve what I am doing now!" Ed asked, with painful sarcasm. "Should I fucking ask for approval to go out, or take the bus, or change my shift, or get my research, or fucking take a shit!" Ed was wild, and began shaking his head with disgust. "This is not happening. No part of this idea," Ed twirled his finger condescendingly, "is happening, and screw you for thinking you have the right, or authority, to place any form of restriction on me! You can choose any fucking guise you like, noble or not, but don't think I am going to be fooled with this preschooler shit!"

"Your misinterpreting my polite request for you to understand my feelings, and incorporate them in your decision making process, with a work order!" Roy said, tone lifting with fury. _He was losing his ability to keep it. _"If I wanted to give you an order, I damn well would Ed, and you would listen to it, do you understand that?" Roy asked, stepping closer and becoming nasty. "Your obedience is required, your _submission_, is required, and your compliance is_ mandatory_, this is not a democracy, and it never will be." Ed began an exaggerated mocking laugh, ready to get a word in while Roy finished. "But that is our relationship at work!" Roy flung a hand out and pointed toward the door. "I have not overstepped my bounds and imposed them here. Are you really failing to grasp that!" Roy asked, scoffing with the sheer stupidity of it. He grabbed his temple and then tossed his hand with agitation. "I am telling you, you are in danger! And I am asking you, as clearly as I know how, to stop putting yourself there!"

"I am not in danger!"

"You are in danger!"

"I would know if I had reason to fear, you think I am an idiot!" Ed's tone became more serious. "Now I am in the middle of a project, and I am going to finish it!"

"You're not finishing it."

Ed went berserk. A flare of anger flew through Ed's face Roy had never seen, and it was crippled with desperation that scared him. Whatever Ed was imbedded in, it was possessive, and it had poisoned the boy, and made him drunk with dependency. Ed was so angry he went completely silent, and for a moment looked as if he'd detonate.

"You're a very bull-headed person," Roy said, feeling his patience stretch uncomfortably. _There was only so much of this puerile idiotic behavior he could stomach. _"I understand you think this is something you have to do, but you're not thinking clearly Ed. You're not properly evaluating the danger you're putting yourself in!" Roy felt much of his anger leap forward to escape, and tried to stop it. He had been yelling, and he did not want to continue yelling. "You're a scientist god dammit, and you know why we check each other's work! It's to avoid the blinding bias you're suffering now!" He tossed an angry point toward the bedroom. "What you're doing to Alphonse is unfair and selfish."

"Fuck you," Ed said quickly, knocking Roy's hand down. "Don't fucking drag Alphonse into this Roy, I am not fucking kidding!"

"Are you giving that order wearing a look of guilt?" Roy asked, plucking at the trace of suppressed concern that rose in Ed's eyes when Alphonse was mentioned. "Because your brother was out looking for you all morning, worried, and certainly being dragged into this, but not by me!" Ed looked slapped with these words. In a flash Ed darted to the side to escape, but Roy grabbed Ed's arm and stopped him. "You've got a lot of nerve doing what you're doing," Roy said, lowering his voice and making it cold. "It's thoughtless, neglectful, and rude."

Ed tugged on his arm, but Roy wouldn't release it. "I am not talking about this anymore," Ed said angrily. "We're not going to see eye-to-eye, so I am ending this here."

"That's not a decision you can make."

"You cannot tell me what I can, and cannot, do!" Ed yelled, blinded and enraged with anything that touched this hot button. _Roy had enough._ Ed reversed them in conversation, striking out what they had been talking about, and catapulted them into a useless misplaced side concern. The anger that had been pulling at Roy's chain, broke free. He stepped forward and shoved Ed the few inches necessary to knock Ed up against the wall. It was a bar fight maneuver, jamming his forearm across Ed's chest, and restraining Ed's torso in a flush and immobile pin. With the shove, Ed barked Roy's name in an angry, "Roy!" The action was violent, and Ed startled when he was secured. _This was very different from hostile collaborative sex._ "Just what the hell do you think you're doing!"

"Roy!" Alphonse spoke from the bedroom doorway behind them. "Let him go!"

Roy had secured Ed because he felt he could not grasp him logically. Ed was a vibrating atom, shaking and convulsing under its own power on the edge of decision and the state of metamorphosis. Roy didn't want to lose Ed's original form, but chaos had injected itself into Ed's core, and while Ed was deafened by his own chanting mind, it was eating up what was left.

Roy pressed himself nose-to-nose with Ed, and in a soft quiet voice said, "Listen to me Ed." He needed Ed to hear him. "When you act recklessly you put those who love you in danger, and that is not just Alphonse anymore. I am telling you, very clearly, I won't allow it. You do not have the right to put me in a precarious position I cannot control."

"Roy!" Alphonse appeared at Roy's side, and grabbed Roy's arm in a backward pull so Ed would be released.

Roy ignored this and kept his gaze locked with Ed's beautiful golden eyes. "I am not asking, not to be put in danger, I am telling you, I will not be." He gave Ed a strong shove, and abandoned his grip. His hold had kept Ed perfectly erect, and with the release, Ed dropped downward an inch and looked aggressive, but cautious.

Alphonse immediately released Roy's arm, and stepped back with uncertainty.

Ed wasn't moving. He kept his weight resting on the wall with an intense gaze trained on Roy. It was as angry as it was upset, and Roy could see the stress of it bleeding into Ed's brow, and dropping it like a curtain on his eyes.

"This is a deal breaker Ed," Roy said angrily. "I never asked for this. How dare you make yourself important to me, and then unnecessarily flaunt yourself to an enemy."

"It is necessary," Ed said softly.

"You're only thinking about yourself!" Ed flinched and looked upset with Roy's raised tone. "You don't want _me _doing it," Roy said, gesturing to himself, before to Alphonse. "You don't want _him_ doing it!" This was true. "And yet you expect to be an exception to the rule! If I left tomorrow and went to the front lines voluntarily, what would you have to say?" Roy paused so Ed could answer. With the yelling Ed's rate of breath had been steadily increasing until it looked as if he had been jogging. Ed glared through the silence provided for him, and Roy felt his anger drop to ugly acquiescent repugnance. "Fine," Roy said angrily, turning on his heels and leaving.

Ed's breath hitched when Roy began a quick and angry walk to the door. Sounding nervous he called a soft, "Roy?" and staggered up from his slouch.

Roy was furious at Ed for refusing to acknowledge the reality of what he was doing. Ed was committed to a double-standard, and foolish process in which the end was meant to justify the means. As a scientist, and especially as an alchemist, Ed was spitting on the most basic of scientific theories, and certainly knew better.

When Roy was half way to the door Ed began following. "Roy, I didn't mean to yell so much, let's continue talking about this, okay?" Roy was done talking. _He wanted out of this failure of an equation._ Ed was single handedly looping an explosive transmutation circle about them, and Roy felt like it was locking him into the focus point that would combust. "Roy! Why are you leaving?" Ed asked, rushing to Roy's side. "Okay, you know what? I should have called or something, but that's it! I made a mistake. You don't get to order me around for mistakes." Ed grabbed the top of Roy's arm. "Roy, stay. I don't like shit ending this way."

"No." Roy approached the door without giving Ed the courtesy of eye contact, and Ed moved to block his path.

"Roy, come on," Ed whispered, giving Roy a discrete, but powerful, eye flare. "Roy." Roy stepped to the side, and reached for the door knob. "Okay," Ed said, with a bit of frustration entering his tone. "Where are you going to go then? Home? How come?" Ed resumed his block and opened his arms to keep the door closed. "Are you really that mad at me?"

"Move."

Ed became jittery with this command, and seized the doorknob in a tight protective grip. "Roy, come on. Don't be so uptight. I am apologizing."

"Move, I am leaving." Roy met Ed's eyes and there was nothing merciful about his gaze. "I don't want this." This was how he felt. _Ed was walking right into Melander's mouth. _"I don't want any of it." He was scared of the consequences, and sure they would come. "You make it impossible to bear." And this was the hell of it. _How much he wanted to stay._

Ed's face bled over with panic. "Are…" Ed cried, jaw dropping. "Are you breaking up with me!"

Roy reached forward and gently pushed Ed aside. In shock Ed was easy to move. "Maybe."

"What!" Ed cried, throwing himself across the door with new purpose. "I am sorry, okay!" Ed's tone became desperate. "Roy, I am sorry. I apologize. I am really sorry. Please, don't go." It was absolute sincerity and fear.

Roy paused, because Ed's manner was powerful enough to stop him, even if only for the tiniest moment of reflection. "I have a life to live," Roy said softly. "I have a career and a future." Couldn't Ed understand this? "I don't want that carrying the stress of someone disregarding how I feel so they can walk blindly into danger. I don't want to_ be_ with someone standing in constant danger." He reached forward and opened the door. "I know you will get hurt, I am telling you, I am certain of it. This is not about intelligence and skill, it is scientific probability Ed." He could not stand accepting this inevitable fact. He could not stand the POWERLESSNESS of it all. Ed was making him weak. Forcing him to take a bullet that could be missed. WEAK.

"You're dumping me for this?" Ed was overcome with disbelief, and stumbled aside when the door was opened. Roy exited into the hall, and Ed reached after him. "Roy!" Ed cried, grabbing Roy's arm.

Roy looked back with hopelessness in his eyes because he did not expect Ed to have anything new to say.

"Don't walk out on me, please," Ed whispered.

There was no compromise.

There was no understanding.

Things were going to continue as they were until the knife appeared.

Roy shook his arm away gently, and left down the hall. He was angry as much as he was sad, and somehow those two emotions yielded a quiet and momentarily numb shell of himself. He was uncertain if he was truly breaking up with Ed, because he had not said so with sureness, but the powerfully upsetting fact he felt he was, said it all.

Half way down the hall he realized he was holding his breath, and he emptied and refilled his lungs. If Ed was intent to stand in the eye of the storm when he made it clear that was not where he wanted his relationship, then in a way they were both, simultaneously, ending it together.

Roy approached the stairs leading downward from the second floor, and began descending them. For their relationship to work, there would have to be compromise, and without it, they could not be together. On step four Roy paused when he heard Ed's voice from the hall.

"Did he!" Ed called.

Roy looked back over his shoulder, but there was nothing but silence. He returned to the hallway and peeked down it so the sight of Alphonse standing disheveled and tired in the middle of it greeted him.

"I think so nii-san," Alphonse said softly.

"Don't lie!" Ed yelled. "I said, did he really leave!"

"Nii-san, I am not lying."

Ed pushed into the hall, huffing breaths like a bull about to charge, and physically buckled on sight of it empty. In a sharp furious glance that swept from side to side Ed confirmed there was no one in the hall, and this emptiness registered in three fast blinks as Ed's expression tightened with something of sharp pain and shock.

"Oh, nii-san," Alphonse said softly, lifting a hand and laying it on Ed's shoulder. Ed slapped it off, with his eyes still trained into the hallway. "Nii-san." Alphonse replaced his hand, and Ed slapped it off harder, beginning to shake his head with disbelief. From where he stood Roy could see Ed's bangs begin to swing about the boy's features, and it reminded him of when they were making love and Ed's body moved under the force of his own.

"I know nii-san," Alphonse said, looping his arm about Ed's shoulders right before Ed closed his eyes and crinkled his expression into a painful curl that made him look as if he were about to sneeze.

Alphonse took Ed in a tight hug, looking sympathetic and defeated by everything that had happened that night, and Roy watched the two boys. Alphonse was holding Ed and stroking Ed's back with Ed speaking softly over Alphonse's shoulder. It was an intimate moment between the brothers that Roy envied, and it was shattered by a friendly excited greeting from the opposite end of the hallway where Cindy was quickly coming up the stairs.

Ed broke away from Alphonse at once, and fled into the apartment. Alphonse called after Ed, but didn't chase him. Cheerfully Cindy arrived in the hall carrying a bag of morning bagels and a tray with three cups of coffee.

Roy waited until Alphonse walked Cindy inside and the Elric door closed.

Then, he left.

* * *

As the days went by, the Western disturbance continued to grow and Roy had stacks of reports coming in. Three divisions of his own troops were moved out and stationed within the zone of tension. Although they were safe, this incorporated his name as having active men. He became a listed ranking officer participating in the disturbance, and the relating reports were daily.

Staffing had thinned at Central. Accommodating for the bulk of capable and active troops which deployed left the entire month to be rescheduled and most events to be cancelled. Time passed. Every day was a blur, with time enough for lunch, but nothing else. Home was another story. Work did not travel back from the office, and so every day when Roy left it was with the knowledge all that was waiting for him was a dark and silent military home. He hadn't heard from either brother since he told Ed undressing for the enemy went against his romantic interest principles, and Ed had made it clear enough in silence that undressing for the enemy was of greater importance than him.

For the most point this unexpected, but painful, fact had come like a kick Roy felt he should have seen coming. Edward had spent his entire life doing what he pleased, even if that included suicidal taboo. Being told now, and possibly for the first time, you couldn't do it anymore, threatened deep ramifications. The plunging blade was simply admitting he had been confident Ed would comply if he had to threaten something as great as their relationship, but Ed hadn't.

Completing report after report, most with crafted grids where he scribbled his name, approved financial figures, and authorized tactical maneuvers, he was allowed an Elric-free respite at work. His reports consumed him, and without them, there would be nothing but emptiness at home, and in the office. So for once, he was thankful for civil unrest.

At a quarter to two Hawkeye appeared in front of Roy's desk. When she spoke his pen stopped mid sentence. "Sir?" He lifted his gaze to her and even before she began he could see she was unsatisfied. "Edward has been a No-Call-No-Show for the last three days." Her tone held frustration, but her facial expression was sympathetic concern and confusion. Roy's lack of action was uncharacteristic. _Especially in comparison to his prior motivation._

"I am aware," Roy said, revealing nothing. There was of course no way to hide from the sticky notes she left on his desk every day. _Fullmetal NCNS again!_

"Sir," Hawkeye said dryly. This was scolding enough. She had taken it upon herself to keep his career together, his office life together, and even his office together. Somewhere between organizing files, smoothing political relations, and coordinating the strategic development of their team, she had decided that not even he was going to be allowed to be an obstacle to himself. She raised the bar high, and she forced him to meet it.

"Fine," Roy snapped, tossing his pen down. "Call him and tell him to come in or he's fired." He didn't want to see Ed, but what choice did he have. He couldn't hand Ed off to another Colonel. _He wouldn't do it. Not even after this._

"Fired?" Hawkeye asked, flabbergasted with the stupidity of the statement. The military didn't fire employees; they contracted them in and put them to war. "Sir, he's going to know we can't fire him."

"It will confuse him." Roy retrieved his pen. He wasn't entirely certain Ed would know what to do with this nonsensical request. Being so entirely left brain Roy though it would at least agitate Ed enough to respond. "The confusion will bring him in." This was his plan.

Hawkeye said nothing else. She didn't inquire as to why he had been sulking, or why he was regarding Ed, even though he was not physically present, with such coldness. She was candid and departed with only the click of the door latching.

She left behind only dread.

When Roy was twenty-six one of his closest friends from boot camp, the unsuspecting Joe he and Hughes had let toss back straight whiskey after confessing he'd only ever had sixteen beers, met a pretty little thing in the regiment over. She had a sweet face, and so even in uniform, she was feminine. He was mad for her, and Roy could admit the only downfall was her ability to out drink them. She had an off-color sense of humor, was a terrific shot, and had integrated the soldier lifestyle into her every fiber, so that her combat did not interfere with what were traditionally considered female life choices. She wanted a family, and so the same unsuspecting Joe who had begun puking after only two whiskey shots, was lucky enough to be engaged to this woman for the five months he knew her before she was shot and killed on the battlefield.

At twenty-six, Roy thought he would never see something so sad, this being months before Ishval. In many ways when the unsuspecting Joe, who lost his fiance to a stray bullet, died in Ishval it seemed fitting, because so much had already left the man.

Roy had decided, on the day he stood before an open hole receiving a black coffin the size and shape of his body, that he would not date a soldier. He would an alchemist, but not a front line could not take that risk. _Would not take it._ He could not stomach letting death eye what he prized so highly.

There was a brief knock on Roy's office door before Alphonse stuck his head in. "Sir?" Alphonse called, coming in quickly and shutting the door behind him. "I know I come unannounced," Alphonse sounded confident invading offices where he did not have appointments was okay.

"I have a meeting." Roy lied.

"I know." Alphonse lied as well, and came quickly to the desk with his hands raised in surrender. "I just…want to apologize for my brother's absences…and…say." Alphonse started strong and then trailed off looking unsure. He was fresh and clean today because the troops were not training with so many of them on the field. Roy knew, because he had rewritten the schedule, and had them all doing book work, and assembling and disassembling weapons. There was no use doing the live mode ground training if some thirty of them were missing.

Alphonse took a large gulp, like a large breath before a dive, and said, "You need to own up to what happened." Roy wasn't expecting such a forward approach. "There needs to be closure," Alphonse said firmly. "For whatever it is you decide."

Roy was silent. He sat slumped in his chair with his pen lifted from his form, and a dark gaze on the young boy who thought he knew what he was talking about. _Alphonse Elric, relationship counselor._ "Your brother seems to think it is closed." Roy dropped his pen to his desk. "He knows how I feel and has nothing to say." Alphonse's expression tightened with disagreement, but kept a polite silence. Roy placed his elbows on the desk and fanned his upward hands outward to gesture to the room. "If he wanted to, he could have answered." This was obvious, and he leaned back in his chair with Alphonse looking like a statue which had solidified after too much vocabulary came to mind and filled him.

Roy left a pause, but when Alphonse continued his silence, Roy lifted an eyebrow with a bit of annoyance. "Is that a lie?" He didn't have any sympathy for these selfish brothers. _He was being made to suffer too._ "Alphonse, is it?"

Alphonse's brow tightened, and began a slow but controlled frown. "If it's so easy," Alphonse said, choosing his words carefully. "Then why didn't you just pick up the phone and answer him?"

Roy was silent. He wasn't going to justify this question with an answer. It was his business why he didn't do things he didn't to, and the Elric brothers would have to learn to swallow that.

"Don't come here and speak for him," Roy said coldly. He was a bit disgusted Ed wasn't man enough to do this himself. "I was not dating you." He was angry. "I don't need a messenger."

Alphonse took a fast step to the desk and planted a spread palm across Roy's paperwork before leaning downward so they were eye level. "I bear all his wounds," Alphonse said, near a whisper. Alphonse was a strong boy, and his military record proved it. He was capable physically, and had illustrated he had a grasp on alchemy that suggested he was going into the wrong field pursuing a soldier's work. "If you hurt me, you'll deal with me. So I have a right to speak on this too." Alphonse narrowed his gaze so similarly to Ed Roy felt captivated. He was certain it was the first time he'd ever seen such a possessively aggressive expression on Alphonse's face, and yet part of Alphonse's features nearly became Edwards. _The eyes, the powerful Elric eyes._

"That's a bit juvenile, wouldn't you say?" Roy asked dully.

Alphonse stood up abruptly. "Don't think this is over," Alphonse snapped, turning for the door and beginning a quick stomping exit. "I am dismissing myself."

Roy groaned. _Alphonse was becoming more and more like his brother every day._

The speaker to Roy's desk phone answered a page and Hawkeye spoke. "Sir?" Roy groaned audibly and she took that as confirmation. "Edward just arrived, I am sending him in." Roy groaned louder and purposely disconnected the page before he had to hear anymore. One Elric was enough, and already, through the door, he could hear Ed's mouth. From the tones making it through the wood, Ed was not overly happy he had caught Alphonse exiting.

Quickly Roy closed his eyes and dragged his hand over his face. He was not in the right state of mind to deal with Ed, and began massaging his temples. As much as the war brought relief, it was still a heavy work load, and feeling empty of the strength to face Ed's combative nature, Roy resigned himself to visual intimidation. He sat up straight, set his new best pen before him, and linked his hands beneath his chin.

Ed knocked and entered quickly, flicking the door shut behind him. Roy revealed nothing with his expression, but he was shocked with Ed's appearance. Ed looked as if he hadn't slept in weeks. He was a bit pale and even looked as if he needed to shower.

Ed approached Roy's desk, and slumped into the chair he always assumed. Roy kept silent. With Ed avoiding eye contact Roy studied the boy further, but there was simply no way to put it nicely, Ed looked like hell.

"If I am fired, do I get the rest of the day off?" Ed asked, breaking the silence, and reluctantly meeting Mustang's eyes. Ed's clothes were wrinkled, his eyes were a bit bloodshot, and his hair looked dirty. If possible it looked as if Ed had been trapped in a closet since they'd last met. "And if you're going to fire me, I quit," Ed said angrily.

Slowly Roy lowered his linked hands to the desk, and gave this defensive comment of childish anger and ignorance a smile. "Fullmetal, you're in a legally binding contract." That was the black and white of it. "Even if I wanted to fire you, I could not." Ed narrowed his gaze skeptically. "You simply need to show for work."

Ed lolled his head to the side while rolling his eyes. "Fine," Ed scoffed, propping his right arm on the armrest of his chair before bringing the automail fingers to his mouth. _Even Ed's gloves were missing._

Roy couldn't stand it anymore. "You look like hell."

Ed jerked, as if these words physically hit him, before scrambling from the chair, and storming for the door. "Fullmetal," Roy said, apologetic in tone, but Ed didn't so much as slow. "Ed!" _Watching Ed walk away was painful_.

Ed stopped with a brief shoulder lifting shudder a mere foot from the door. "If I didn't have it," Ed lifted his left arm and grabbed the right as if it were wounded, "If I were normal…" Roy made a face of intense disagreement and shock. "If I could do things like…everyone else…then…" Ed glanced back over his shoulder with a vicious look of heart-bleeding betrayal. "You're a bastard," Ed whispered, sounding as if he meant this. "Wait until you see."

Ed ripped the door open, and slammed it behind him. Roy was left sitting in the silence of his office feeling as if their small talk had only shoveled the hole between them a few feet deeper. Ed hadn't helped to clear up his absences, or commit to faithfully coming to work. He had only opened more questions, and Roy was disturbed with the dark and unhealthy overture they seemed to have. As it was, Ed was not his boyfriend, and therefore as any other military alchemist, was free to do as he pleased even if it was unhealthy for him. Roy did not have jurisdiction over personal habits. _Unfortunately._

He laid his hand down for his pen feeling suffocated with his options, but his palm met an empty desk. His pen was gone, and this gave him hope. There was still a chance.

* * *

Roy awoke with it pouring rain. The storm sounded to be at its peak, hammering down fervently at a slant so the window panes all along the front of the house sounded as if they were being pelted.

Roy awoke violently, jerking so hard the back muscle in his neck locked up, and he bolted into a sitting position grabbing it. In the darkness of his bedroom he reached immediately to his night stand where his ammunition glove and gun always sat. Grabbing the glove he slid out of bed, and staggered into the hall, because the banging was most definitely at his front door.

Turning the lights on like breadcrumbs, Roy opened his front door in his boxers and an open robe. Standing in the dim light of his front porch, soaking wet, and dripping everywhere, was Alphonse.

"This is all your fault!" Alphonse yelled, knocking the door inward and pushing his way inside while holding up a wet piece of paper like a search warrant. "Look at this!" Alphonse demanded, slipping haphazardly with the soles of his flip-flops wet and unable to gain traction. "Just look!" Alphonse grabbed at the door and caught himself. Roy too, reached out and steadied the boy's arm before looking at the crinkled sheet of loose leaf pushed at him.

Roy leaned his head to the side to avoid having the damp sheet smeared across his face like moist tissue paper. "What are you doing here?" he asked, unsure if he were angry.

"Is my brother here?" Alphonse asked, and it was then Roy realized Alphonse was panting heavily, as if he'd run a long distance. "Is he?" Alphonse took a step closer to the stairs and looked up them. "Nii-san!" Alphonse called.

Roy shut the front door. Open the outdoor rain had been misting in, and with the glimmer of his porch light the entire world was sparkling.

"No, he's not," Roy said, irritated with the rude behavior.

"He's not with me, and I haven't seen him since yesterday. Then I found this." Alphonse stepped to the wall, and flicked the light switch leaving behind a wet mark. Alphonse again lifted the paper he held into view, and Roy looked at the tiny chicken scratch handwriting in the middle of it. _It was Eds._

_Al, if I am not home when you find this don't worry, I'll be home soon. For your protection I've been vague, but things are at their critical stage. I will be back tonight, and if not, you'll figure it out. Love Ed. _

"Figure what out?" Roy asked, lifting his gaze to Alphonse's dripping face. Alphonse had obviously traveled through the downpour, but looked more as if he'd run through a sprinkler, and droplets were slipping off his short bangs. With this question Alphonse dug into his pocket and pulled out a zip lock bag with a small folded square of paper inside.

"Do you have a towel?" Alphonse asked, wiping his face on the side of his arm. Roy gestured to the stairs and the visible bathroom at the top of them. Alphonse offered the plastic bag, and said, "Here, take a look at it." Then he sloshed his way up the stairs in his dripping shorts, tee shirt, and flip-flops.

"Why didn't you drive over here?" Roy asked, fishing the paper out of the bag.

Alphonse retrieved a towel from the bathroom and pulled it over his head to dry his hair. "Car wasn't available!" he yelled, buffing his skull. "I think you should be taking this serious," Alphonse said, sounding annoyed.

Roy grunted, skeptical this was true. "How often does your brother say he has things to do, and leave?" This was a rhetorical question. "He doesn't communicate well, often when he should, and he doesn't share these things."

Roy fished the paper from the bag and was unfolding it when Alphonse stomped down the stairs and snatched it away. "Wrong!" Alphonse said angrily. Alphonse curled his hand into an accusatory point. "He doesn't communicate to you! He always communicates to me!" Alphonse shoved the paper into Roy's hands and pointed at it. "This letter is a cry for help. This is him letting me know if he's not back in two days something is wrong!"

"He's been gone two days?" Roy asked, lifting the paper up toward the foyer light.

"Yes!"

"And you haven't heard from him at all?"

"No!"

"And that's unusual?"

"Yes!"

"All right," Roy said, giving a nod to appease Alphonse's near hyperventilation. Alphonse was incredibly agitated with Ed's disappearance, and Roy studied the paper he had been given. It was a single sheet of loose-leaf, and covered on every line both front and back in Ed's tiny chicken scratch were numbers. They ran from one to fourteen, but appeared in no order and pattern. They were so tiny the page almost looked checkered, and Roy flipped it over twice becoming confused. "What is this?" He didn't know what to make of it.

Alphonse licked his lips looking incredibly worried. "I found that in the refrigerator," Alphonse said softly, as if this were grave news. "He put it there because he knew I'd find it. It was under the milk."

Roy didn't know how to interpret this information. He knew Ed hated milk, so he understood the significance of the location, but not the actual numbers. "I don't understand."

"It's a code!" Alphonse cried, gesturing wildly to the paper. "Look Roy, I know we're not that close, but you need to start taking what I am saying serious!"

"Alphonse, I am giving you my undivided attention," Roy said, trying to stay patient. _It was asinine otherwise was being implied._ "Forgive me if you're not making much sense showing me papers with random numbers."

"This isn't random," Alphonse scolded. "Nii-san makes these. They're different every time, but inside it somewhere is a pattern, and that pattern will carry some type of message. It's a code you can break. If you had stuck around a little longer you would have learned nii-san always covers his ass when he leaves. And more importantly, someone always knows where he is."

"Then why are you here?" Roy asked coldly. "Do you want a ride to go get him?" Alphonse's words stung: _Stuck around._

Alphonse took a tiny step back looking wounded with this question. It was meant to be cruel, and Alphonse was crushed. "He didn't tell me," Alphonse said softly, sounding ashamed. He dropped his eyes to the puddle that was pooling around his dripping shorts and tried to understand why Ed would keep something so serious a secret. "He didn't tell me, he's been rather… and he said you were slowing him down, so he's been feeling rushed."

"That I was slowing him down?" Roy asked, completely baffled.

"That's what he's been saying, and it's been hard to hold argument with him." Alphonse wiped at his wet face and pointed back at the paper. "But I know that's a failsafe. He's making sure if anything happened we could find him."

"You can crack this?" Roy asked, doubtful something as ridiculous as two pages of scribbled numbers would constitute a code.

"Yes, he's made them for me before." Alphonse began nodding. "Only..."

"Only, what?"

"Only, the last one took me three days." Alphonse was embarrassed with his confession and dropped his eyes before he could see Roy's expression of shock. _Three days! Ed wrote codes advanced enough to trip his own brother up for three days! _"What you have to understand Roy is that nii-san didn't plan on being gone two days. That means since he has been gone two days something unexpected happened that shouldn't have. The note was meant for one day!"

"You know all of that, from this?" Roy asked, indicating the page with surprise.

"I know my own brother," Alphonse snapped defensively. Roy gave this a warning glance, he wasn't going to be able to take the bitter hostility turning on and off so late at night. It would make it too hard to help. "I...I am worried Roy." Alphonse gave the back of his neck a nervous rub. "He's not thinking clearly." Alphonse shifted his weight, feeling reluctant and uncomfortable sharing Ed's personal information. "He's been…rather depressed since…and he's been very spontaneous and he's been research constantly and…"

Alphonse's words began creating a picture in Roy's head. Ed sitting huddled in his notes writing furiously, only instead of being freshly showered from wonderful sex, the boy was lonely and hurting. Ed had been consumed in his research even then, and Roy had seen how an hour outing had turned into the night that had broke them apart.

"Alphonse," he said, growing concerned. "What was he researching?"

Alphonse was annoyed with the question. "Alchemy."

"Alphonse!"

"Marsisisms," Alphonse confessed, sounding guilty and looking even guiltier.

"Right before he left me, the last time we spoke, he said something about his automail," Roy said thoughtfully. "I found it odd." He went to the phone in his kitchen and picked it up.

"Why?" Alphonse asked, following. "What did he say?"

"I just got the feeling he wanted to touch on the subject, if he didn't have his automail, we would have worked out better." Roy dialed Havoc and Alphonse became angry.

"You never let him know it was okay he had it!" Alphonse snapped. "You could have been nicer to him Roy." Roy waved for Alphonse to get away from him. "Why couldn't you have just been a bit more lovey with him? That's all he wanted!"

Roy covered the receiver. "Alphonse I am not discussing this with you," he said coldly. _He was not going to discuss his relationship with the elder brother with the younger! _Briefly, and just to be an ass, he considered asking Alphonse what he thought about Ed wanting to be verbally degraded in bed and freaking loving it.

Havoc answered in a groaning slur. "Hello?"

"Havoc, I apologize for calling so late," Roy said. Alphonse rolled his eyes dramatically and snatched Ed's work from Roy's hand. _Apparently etiquette was removed when things were not considered to be taken seriously._ "I need some information from you."

"If you need me to come in now sir, I can't," Havoc moaned poorly. "I am under the weather. I was going to call in."

Alphonse left in an angry huff, and relocated himself into the dining room.

"I don't want you to come in," Roy snapped. "I am at home, and don't have reports on hand. I need you to tell me where you went when you followed Fullmetal." Alphonse stuck his head back into the kitchen looking puzzled. Havoc was half asleep and mumbling uselessly. "Then I need you to find that information," Roy said darkly. "Yes, I do mean now. Get up and find it now." Havoc thought the paper he had written all of this down on was lost because it seemed no longer to be needed. "Well it is needed." Roy couldn't believe this. "Find it and bring it to my house when you do." Havoc was protesting when Roy hung up and looked to Alphonse who had kept his ridiculous head-sticking-into-kitchen-doorway stance.

"You had my brother followed by Havoc only?" Alphonse asked with disbelief.

"Fullmetal is not a covert operation I was wasting military time on." Roy pointed toward the dining room. "If you can crack that, I'd get working on it." Alphonse went quickly to the dining room table, and Roy left to get the boy something dry to wear. Now that he had made sense of everything he wanted a minute in private to digest it.

Ed was missing, and Alphonse was significantly distraught. Ed had left notes and puzzles as to where he had gone, but hadn't even told the brother he'd confessed the loss of his virginity to, where or why. Roy grabbed Alphonse a pair of his sweatpants and a generic tee shirt. As far as finding Ed was concerned they were on square one.

With no evidence Roy knew they'd find Ed with Melander_._ It was the last place he wanted the boy, and so of course, it would be the first place he'd go.

* * *

After the sun rose and the rest of the none-brother-missing world awoke, Roy phoned Hawkeye at the office and she was not impressed with him. "Sir, I must confess, this is borderline ridiculous." She said this as a friend, but her voice was frustrated.

"I understand." If he had an ounce more in energy he would have cared. _A bit._

"Sir, you just took a personal day, and Edward is No-Call-No-Show again." She was fed up with Ed's absences. "With your permission I am going to find him and lecture him myself. I've had it up to here with this behavior sir, and we should not be tolerating it." She couldn't be more right. "I understand things may be different between you personally now, but you are still Edward's commanding officer, and you have a duty to manage him here at work." He appreciated her use of the word manage. "And what's worse," she continued, voice lowered to keep the conversation private, "Alphonse has also called in. Alphonse's coach called directly to your desk to complain. He's very upset. Apparently Alphonse was doing something important in his unit today."

"I understand." Roy stepped into the dining room doorway and looked at Alphonse. The boy appeared next to dead slouched over his table scrawling his own sets of numbers with his finger dragging down Edwards. "I am going to call you back soon, and then I'll have more information."

"More information?" Hawkeye asked, sounding startled from her thoughts. "More information on what?"

"I can't go into it right now," he said. _He wasn't going into it with Alphonse in ear shot._ "The documentation we have on Melander, send it to me, and make sure you include any confidential files." He hung up before she could voice the alarm he knew this request, and his previous statement would leave her with. You didn't _'understand'_ deceitful absences and _'call with more information,'_ you yelled at the soldiers who didn't do what they were supposed to until they did what they should. He had told her, deliberately, that there was something going on, and that his absence now, and perhaps Edward's and Alphonse's, were all involved. If things became hectic and, as he feared, dangerous later, he'd prefer her to spring into action.

"Alphonse, your brain is going to need a break," Roy said, pouring the boy a cup of fresh coffee. He brewed it an hour ago, after he showered and dressed in all but his uniform jacket. "With your brain a sponge you'll work slower, so you need to get some sleep." He added a spoonful of sugar to the black mug and took it to the boy.

Alphonse had Ed's page of numbers in front of him, and several of his own fanned around it. He looked grateful for the supportive words, and looked up with a tired smile under dark circled eyes. "This one isn't as hard as the last one," Alphonse said, sounding weakly optimistic. Three of Alphonse's sheets were breaking Ed's into what Roy assumed were manageable parts, and his fourth was deciphering it slowly.

Roy looked at Alphonse's product page. It had a few strings of numbers. "Why are you writing backwards?" he asked, looking at the backward numbers.

"Nii-san's writing backwards. I am just deciphering what he wants me to find," Alphonse said, taking the coffee mug and holding it close with both hands.

"Inside of that mess, he wrote backwards?" Roy asked, touching Ed's loose leaf with respect. He was amazed a puzzle as large and complex as this had come from Ed's head. Softly, with a tone full of admiration he said, "Your brother really is a genius."

Alphonse smiled and took a sip of his coffee. "What happened between you two was wrong," Alphonse said. "Nii-san has things…just like everyone else, insecurities about himself that are hard for him to see past." Alphonse raised his gaze, and the boy's eyes were pink and tired. "Even though he cared about you so much, they were still there. He felt like a second, all the time."

"Your brother is so gifted he's second to no one," Roy said, and directly after he spoke he fell silent. He was surprised with the intensity of his words, and shocked with how clearly he articulated something he did not, until this moment, know he believed. He had worded it perfectly, and he believed, more powerfully than he was aware, that Edward, in all of his splendor, was magnificent, and anyone Edward chose to confide in should find themselves valued.

Alphonse also seemed surprised with Roy's words, but his surprise was largely relief amorous sentiments were alive and kicking.

"We'll find him before anything happens," Roy said confidently, dropping his hand onto Alphonse's shoulder and giving it a squeeze. "I have just as much faith in you, as I do him." Alphonse managed an appreciative smile. "I know you can crack this. Now, I am not going to work today. Havoc listed something in his first report about Ed visiting our old buildings. We have four old buildings in this area which are not in use. I may know how to find him, but I need the resources at the office." He paused thoughtfully. He did not want to get Alphonse's hopes up too high, and considered adding something frank with realism, but hesitated. Good spirits were good for Alphonse._ When it came down to it, they would find Ed when they found him, and in whatever condition Ed was when they arrived._

"You want me to stay here then?" Alphonse asked. Roy flicked his wrist forward and looked at his watch.

"Yes. In fact, I want you to lie down on my couch and sleep until I get back. That should help."

Alphonse was immediately alarmed. "What?" he asked. "I can't stop working on this!"

Roy ignored this, he took hold of Alphonse's shoulders and steered him up. "We're not discussing this Alphonse, lie down, and I will be back shortly." He left the boy alongside the couch, and grabbed his uniform top off the bottom banister of his stairs. Alphonse looked as if he's crossed mountains to arrive in the living room, and wearing baggy sweat pants and a tee shirt, seemed capable of being blown over with a sneeze.

"Sir, I need to work on his code," Alphonse protested angrily.

Roy pointed at the couch while shrugging into his uniform. "Lie down, now," he said firmly. Alphonse looked annoyed, but like Ed, obeyed Roy's general orders when Roy was serious. Pouting, and almost half asleep, Alphonse dropped onto the couch and flopped onto his side. Roy grabbed his keys and opened the front door. "I'll be right back."

It took Roy only fourteen minutes to get to work.

Within Central Command's third telecommunication room he switched on monitors which looked abandoned. They were dusty and half-hidden behind storage boxes, and gave a faint mechanical hum as soon as they received power. Roy pulled a report from all twelve warehouses, twelve labs, eight dorms, five communication posts, and the four unused buildings. Each one was a grid with a graphed blue line representing power usage, and a red line representing heat. All active warehouses and labs responded appropriately, and all unused buildings showed flat absent lines of usage except for building three.

Building three had one squiggled blue line running across the bottom. It was power usage, low, inconsistent by day, and sporadically different in consumption every time, but it was power in a dormant building. Roy left the monitor on, dropped all but that sheet of paper to the floor, and fled.

Building three was downtown, closed five years ago, and a street after Lankings.

Roy parked on Lankings where he'd picked Ed up so many days ago, and crossed the street in his uniform.

The alleyway to the closed military building was damp. It was considerably clear of debris with the alley being military property, and had all the standard signs forbidding parking and other use. Mustang unlocked the heavily labeled "No Trespassing," and "Military Only," marked door with alchemy and entered the building's lot. In the fashion of all military compounds, it was surrounded with a high stone wall, and out of use, the inside courtyard was a giant plot of dead grass and dirt.

After letting himself in, Roy crossed the half acre distance to the building taking it in with his eyes. All the windows were boarded up, the doors sealed tight, and additional signage was posted indicating the military property and lack of use. The entire scene was peacefully dormant with not a thing out of place.

Roy approached the main door and confirmed it was locked before circling the building twice. Was it possible there was some reason they'd have power to the building? Perhaps something they preferred to keep on? Could it be simple coincidence? Some poor soldier forgetting to turn something off last time he inspected the place, or even a monthly maintenance in which they ran machinery to keep it active?

With his hands on his hips standing in the dirt and looking up at the gray sky Mustang let out a heavy sigh. He couldn't be certain of anything. The downtown area was heavily populated and old. There were lots of places for one scientist, and the boy he was leading into danger, to hide and research. Just because Ed was in the military, didn't mean he had to use military buildings, and it would be like Ed not to use one to throw them off. _However, it would also be like him to use one to throw them off._

Mustang left the military plot and went to the payphone in the front of the military alley. He called home and woke Alphonse. The boy didn't answer until the eleventh ring, and then he did so by picking up and remaining silent. "Alphonse?" Roy asked with confusion.

"Uh." Alphonse made a sound of relief. "Sir, I didn't know if I should answer your phone! I didn't want to over step my bounds."

Roy leaned into the payphone and gave the back of his head a rub. "It's fine. Alphonse get up, you've been sleeping for nearly an hour. I want you to do something." Alphonse yawned. "Call Hawkeye at the office and ask her to check the security cameras to our inactive property. Everything has standard surveillance. Tell her to turn on the cameras and check the footage. She's looking for anything unusual, and my orders are to start with building three."

"Where are you?"

"I am at building three. Give Hawkeye my orders, and ask her to call back at the number I'll give you now as soon as she's done, or as soon as she finds something." Roy gave Alphonse the payphone number and disconnected. Then he crossed the street and bought a cup of coffee. He drank it sitting outside the café in earshot of the phone, with the military building peeking out from behind the warehouse fronts which almost hid it.

After close to forty minutes Roy bought a second coffee, and crossed the street with it in a warm Styrofoam cup. Sipping thoughtfully he circled the building again and examined the landscaping in greater detail. What grass there was showed no disturbance, and the only footprints he could find belonged to him. The only thing to note was a thin smear within the dirt which appeared suddenly in the middle of the yard for a ten foot stretch. It pointed toward the back door, but never approached it, and it began seemingly out of no where as well.

Squatting along side of it, and biting the rim of his cup playfully, Roy tried to conjure a scenario that would make this, but he was coming up with nothing. A rain drop fell into the dirt in front of him, and made a tiny dark circle. It was a cue to leave. He was spending his morning in the dead yard of an old building, and for what? Perhaps he should have stressed to Alphonse he wanted Hawkeye to do this immediately. If she was in the middle of something she may not have interrupted her task to go look at old security cameras.

Roy stood up and stretched his legs. He felt ready to retreat, and gave a final glance at the back entrance before deciding to check it one last time. It was a solid steel built door, and he crossed the long yard and tried the handle. The door was still locked, and the window alongside it boarded up. Between the third and fourth slats was a tiny crack, and Roy looked at it curiously. He stepped up to the window to peek in, and looked at the window ledge so he could sit his coffee down.

What sat on the ledge, hidden to the back, and visible only from this spot, made Roy drop his coffee.

In a startled surprise, the cup dropped from Roy's hand, hit the dirt, and tipped over. The remaining coffee spilled into the spotted grass, but Roy didn't notice. He stared, unblinking, at his best pen, which sat like a hand written sign on the window sill. _Edward Elric was here, _it said, and Roy's now empty hand reached forward and lifted it. He knew from the moment he saw the thin expensive writing tool it was his, but he had to confirm. With dread, he turned it slowly in his fingers looking for the engraving. He did so knowing the engraving would be there, knowing this was no mistake, that Ed took this pen, that Ed came to this building, that Ed set it on the sill, that Ed went inside and had never come back out.

On the arm of the pen cap it read C.R.M in brilliant silver before the emblem of the flame icon.

* * *

Chapter 14, End.

Oh goodness, what an ending! A cliffhanger, I know!

I am now officially back in the US. I had lots and lots of fun on my vacay, but omg am I tired. Jet lag...need sleep...I have so much laundry to do, and on my flight back from London some butthead two rows behind me had a brutal cold and wouldn't cover his mouth! You should have seen my rage...so now...I have a head cold. I will return to work on Monday, and I imagine my desk will look much like Mustang's...no one can do my job for me when I am away, so it just kind of piles up.

Why am I telling you all this? For some sympathy I guess, because I am really in no condition to be ready next Friday, so I have to take a two week break, and I really hate to do it here, but...I have to.

Please please leave a review on this chapter. Let me know what you think. Things have really changed, and the upcoming chapters are going to be intense. (I need to sleep and rest up for those : ) I would love comments on Ed and Roy's spat, that was hard to write.

I will see you all soon, 10/11/13 for Chapter 15: _White Labyrinth  
_I hope to see you there.


	15. White Labyrinth

Foolish For You  
Chapter Fifteen  
_White Labyrinth_

- mirage –

Roy dropped the pen into his spilt coffee, and tossed his shoulder into the door. His first instinct was to fight his way in, and his will was strong, while his shoulder cried out in protest.

Alphonse's voice called out to Roy from behind, in a quick and loud, "Colonel!" but charged in fortitude, Roy grabbed the knob of the door, and rammed it again.

"Alphonse!" Roy yelled. Alphonse was scaling the far wall, and hit the dirt of the lawn rather harshly. "Alphonse, get over here!" Roy yelled, without losing momentum.

Alphonse came running, and was panting as he approached. "She sent me right to you!" Alphonse extended a field communication hand-set. Thick and green in design, the receiver shape was their standard long-range issue. "She's on the line."

Roy snatched the intercom, and stepped away, pointing at the door. "Get me through," he ordered fiercely. "Break it down."

Alphonse went quiet with sudden uncomfortable weariness, and glanced between Roy and the door. "But…" Alphonse said, sounding reluctant. Absent Ed's years of service, Roy's noble ruthlessness was lost on Alphonse, and while it pushed Ed towards zealous obedience, it made Alphonse nervous in his skin, and he froze. "…that's military property…" Alphonse muttered, before hope sprang into his voice, "Colonel, do you think Ed's in there?"

Roy ignored this, and yelled a loud demanding, "Now!" while lifting the receiver to his mouth.

"Yes sir." Alphonse began a transmutation on the front of the door. The noon hour made Alphonse's hurried motions seem misplaced in the safe environment, and Alphonse looked like a cheerful burglar infiltrating military court in his casual tee shirt, sweat pants, and sandals.

"Hawkeye, it's me," Roy said, watching Alphonse draw.

"Sir." Her voice appeared in static, but he could hear her trepidation. "What's going on with you and Ed, is that information which has been shared with Alphonse?"

Roy glanced at Alphonse. "Yes."

"And the case, is that still classified?" She sounded downright scared.

"I am getting the sense it won't be in a moment," Roy said, feeling himself adopt her fear. She wasn't the kind of woman who scared easily and without good reason.

"Rushing this into the limelight does risk incriminating the circumstance," she said quickly. "But sir, Edward is within the building, and it appears he's being held captive."

"What!" Alphonse cried, abandoning the door to near the intercom.

Roy stopped this, slapping a hand onto Alphonse's shoulder, and shoving him harmlessly back to the partial transmutation. "Open it," he demanded. "We're going in."

"Do you want me to deploy reinforcements?" Hawkeye asked, sounding unsettled. "Edward is trespassing among other things." Roy did not want to ask what those other things were.

"Assess this for me as my eyes," he said, swallowing thickly as he lowered the intercom and waited. He trusted her, and he was hoping she would see that they were capable, that men weren't needed, that unfolding events forecast controllable and obtainable. _Tell me we can do this, _he thought, but she was silent. He lifted the receiver, watching Alphonse scratch out fast lines of white chalk. "Say again," Roy said. "What do you advise Hawkeye?"

Alphonse lit his transmutation and the door sprinkled to the ground in a heap of metal toothpicks. They walked over them, crunching loudly on a pavement of pencil lead.

"…I think I might need to call some men," Hawkeye said softly. "This may get out of hand quickly."

Determined not to be discouraged, Roy visually swept the main lobby they had entered. It was small, stout; the building's back entrance was nothing more than an interior exit. Furniture had been cleared, and it was a white office box, leading to a single hall of many doors.

The floor was linoleum, beige and dust-covered. There were no windows, and the power responded when Alphonse hit the light switch, flickering dimly, before sparking the white halls and white doors into cold view. Old dirt and old mold brought the smell of neglect.

Roy looked at the floor. He envisioned the fat thick treads of Ed's boot footprints stamping out as if walking in sand, but there was nothing. No sign of entrance, no sign of exit.

_But there was the pen._

Alphonse went quickly down the hall of doors, trying every handle. At the back of the hall, an elevator and stairwell entrance was sealed tight with plywood. Affixed to each was a bright orange sign of military jargon and command. Caution tape was spread beneath it, lacing each outlet because power was not being directed into the stairwell and elevators.

"What room am I seeking?" Roy asked Hawkeye.

"I am not sure," Hawkeye said. "A storage room, the square footage is too limited to suggest an office or lab. The room is dark, so possibly on a lower level, but the camera angle is bad sir. This building has been out of operation for a while. I can't find an accurate map of our security cameras. The one I have is no good."

Alphonse gave the plywood over the elevator and stairwell a good shake, and then backed away as if disinterested. He was looking around silently, eyes narrowed in precision and expression apprehensive. His golden irises were the Elric furnace: consuming, sapping, and fueling the Elric mind aggressively. Alphonse's body went stiff in the middle of the hall, as if seized by the corridor. Studying the architecture of the walls and doors, while lifting his hands outward, it was obvious he was judging size and placement using his own form. Then he dove at the nearest wall, pressing his ear against it, fanning his palms along in a groping fashion, and smelling.

Roy lowered the receiver in stunned offense, and demanded, "What are you doing?"

"The paint," Alphonse said quickly, nose to the wall. "The paint smells new." Roy looked to the wall. The paint did not look new. Signs of traffic weathered the middle and bottom. Small furniture scuff marks decorated waist level from soldiers packing and unpacking goods, and some corners even had small cob webs.

"What?"

"The paint!" Alphonse repeated, stepping back, and dropping to his knees to study the floor. He laid his cheek against the linoleum title, and stroked the thin frame of the nearest square. "The floor," he said softly.

"Alphonse," Roy said, becoming angry. "What the hell are you doing?"

Alphonse sat up quickly, a bit wide-eyed and said, "Doesn't it all look wrong to you?" Roy was mute with confusion. "The walls? The floor?"_Everything looked perfect to Roy._ "It's fake," Alphonse said with certainty.

"What?"

"Nii-san made it. He's moved the building's architecture." Roy opened his mouth to object, but Hawkeye's statement went drifting through his mind. _I can't find an accurate map of our security cameras. The one I have is no good._ "Hawkeye," Roy said, lifting the receiver to his mouth. "The security camera map, does it match the building's code?"

Alphonse was pointing to the juncture of the wall and floor. "The width of this hallway is wrong, it's too narrow, we don't have any halls this narrow. You couldn't fit three armed men side to side." Alphonse pointed to the doors. "The doors are white, we don't have any white doors, and there is decorative molding." Alphonse pointed to the base boards and door frame woodwork. "Why would trim be built into a service hall?" Roy stared at the details. "And then there is the floor. The grout has no true indentation. It looks like a tile floor, but it isn't one. It's a printed façade nii-san made."

"He made the entire hallway?" Roy asked, skepticism giving way to awe.

"Not just the hallway," Alphonse said softly.

The intercom crackled and Hawkeye said, "Yes, the camera map matches the building's code, but what cameras appear operational contradict the blueprints." She sounded exasperated. "They must have messed up the coding somehow, or moved the cameras and I have an outdated map."

Roy stared at Alphonse, and Alphonse stared back. Ed hadn't moved the security cameras. He hadn't altered the military's blueprints, or coded documents, he had redesigned part of, or perhaps all of, the entire building. He had turned it into a maze only he was familiar with. He had made the electrical system, security system, and schematics useless without tainting them. He might have rerouted the power, created new stair wells, disassembled entire floors, added windows, the possibilities were endless.

"Why?" Roy asked, stunned voice barely a whisper.

"Stealth," Alphonse said flatly. "Flawless stealth."

_Flawless stealth?_ "But Hawkeye can see where he is on one of the monitors."

Alphonse climbed up from the floor, wiping his face clean, and returned to his maddened attempt to look everywhere at once. "Not by accident colonel," Alphonse said, approaching a far vent. "If nii-san can be found on camera, it's only because he wants to be."

_Just like the pen._ Video feed from an unrecognizable building meant it could be any building, and why would someone check the old monitors anyway? They wouldn't. Not unless they were close enough to see the pen. Both details apart meant nothing, both details together meant everything.

"Now nii-san is getting in somewhere," Alphonse said, kneeling down in front of the vent. It appeared to be an air duct, but was easily four feet wide and four feet high. "All we have to do is find out how."

"Sir, is everything all right?" Hawkeye asked.

"Fine, we're looking for a way in."

"Sir, I am sorry to have to say, but I must encourage you to pursue with haste."

"Understood." Roy tucked the intercom into the back of his pants and approached Alphonse's side. "You think he's opening a wall or door with alchemy?"

Alphonse chuckled bitterly. "If he is, we won't be able to find it." Alphonse leaned closer to the vent."I am just looking for…something." Alphonse sounded thoughtfully indeterminate. "Something…not quite right."

"Shouldn't he have left us some more clues?" Roy asked impatiently.

"Colonel, clues are like breadcrumbs. You don't leave them every step of the way, you leave them every few." Alphonse paused and looked up. "What is this for?" Alphonse asked, poking a finger down on the metal outline of the vent. "It's big."

"It looks like a ventilation duct," Roy said. "Probably part of, or was part of the building's HVAC system." Alphonse studied the external eaves, visually consigning the weight of the vent's significance. With extreme care he felt about the edges, peering in through the slats, and Roy became frustrated. "Alphonse, if you think he's using a ventilation shaft, you two are reading too many comics. We have a wealth of doors to choose from."

Alphonse was almost face-first in the vent's top corner trying to see inside. The slats were angled, and Alphonse was moving his head to imitate before abruptly going still.

"What?" Roy asked uneasily.

"There is no dust on the slats," Alphonse said softly, before pulling back with excitement. "There's nearly an inch of it on the floor out here, and nii-san dusted the walls too, but there's none here!"

"If this were a theatrical production, this might sound plausible, but it's ridiculous," Roy said irritably. "You don't crawl into air ducts to enter a building Alphonse. Isn't Ed researching here?" Roy asked, frustration growing. "Are you suggesting he's carrying research material and tools in and out of a vent?" Roy pointed to the dent and scratch free metal cover tightly affixed to the wall. "The screws are even rusted," he said. "This isn't coming on and off daily."

Alphonse shoved Roy's pointing hand aside. "This is it," Alphonse said, with insult. Quickly he used his chalk to draw on the floor. "If you disagree, pick a door and have fun, I am going this way."

Roy felt overwhelmed, and snapped a harsh, "So you honestly believe he fabricated a room of doors, a stair well, and an elevator shaft, so he could put this asinine vent smack in the middle of it, and climb in-and-out with whatever else he's bringing, while remembering to recreate the iron oxide each time!"

"I am saying!" Alphonse yelled, transmuting part of the floor into a crowbar. "Nii-san is infiltrating this building in a way he does not think will get him caught!" Alphonse slammed the crowbar into the vent, and with adrenaline powered anger, ripped half of it off. "Nii-san is not that big, and soldiers, as you are so clearly demonstrating colonel, do not want to go crawling into vents! They charge in with guns!" Alphonse tore the vent cover away, threw it behind him, and entered the duct. "Doesn't it seem like this hallway is filled with exits!" Roy was taken back with this clue, and Alphonse crawled into the vent with his knees and palms stomping. "I mean! Every place to put a door has a door! There are the elevators and the stairs! You could feed a hundred people into this hall and they'd all have a route to take, but none of them would choose to go into this oddly placed, very large, vent!" Alphonse stuck his head back into the hall, frowning. "Let's go!" he yelled. "To quote my brother, you're slowing me down!"

Alphonse's voice was echoing down the tunnel of metallic sheet metal, and his crawling became low drumming on the ductwork.

Roy crouched down and looked into the metal cavern. There was no light, and Alphonse was already disappearing into absolute darkness. The contrast between the gleaming white hallway of exits, and this black cave was Shakespearian, and Roy couldn't help but feel he was willfully stepping into Ed's rabbit hole.

"There's no dust in here either," Alphonse said, from somewhere up ahead. His voice was softer, frustration gone, and brain once again working on overdrive. Sounding smug, Alphonse sniffed a brief laugh and said, "What do you have to say about that?"

Roy climbed into the vent, motions impetuous and angrily.

"Sir?" Hawkeye spoke, and her voice exploded, as if from an old radio, and echoed in all directions.

Roy pulled the intercom to his mouth and whispered, "Hawkeye, keep your voice down."

"Sir, try to hurry. He's in some distress," Hawkeye said softly.

Alphonse was racing ahead, and Roy felt he had one Elric bloodhound seeking another. He followed blindly, trying to manage in the small space that grew to complete blackness. Alphonse was right, the tunnel was undeniably clean, and certainly manufactured Elric in size. Alphonse was navigating with quick efficiency, while Roy found his military boots, and the traction less and bulky fabric of his uniform burdensome in size. Meticulously crafted to prevent investigating parties, the tunnel was in perfect order. Normality practically guaranteed no Amestrian solider would risk the tight pinch and fumbling inconvenience when so many other routes were present. Backup would stampede in, kick down doors, smash open the stairs, send a man down the elevator shaft, and every weapon would be drawn. They would take the building by force like soldiers, walking right past Ed's discrete entrance because it was hidden harmlessly in plain sight.

Alphonse's accuracies brought irritation inside the conflict of Roy's desperate relief. He was grateful, but disappointed his alchemic art had fallen victim to his internal-militia, and reduced him to soldier analytics. Outsmarting this rat's nest would require a higher caliber intellect. He was going to have to think like an Alchemist, and he was going to have to think like Ed's lover. _The pen had been left for him._

"Sir," Hawkeye prompted.

"I need any detail from the room you can make out," Roy said. _Ed had been smart enough to leave a working camera, but limit it conservatively. _"What does it look like?" Roy asked.

"It's poorly lit, I can't see. View is from the upper right-hand corner, and Edward is near there."

Alphonse stopped at the first intersection, looked back, and whispered, "What's he doing? Ask Hawkeye what nii-san's doing."

"What is Ed doing?" Roy asked, before lowering the receiver to speak to Alphonse. He dropped his head in his hand for a moment of rest, and wiped at the sweat on his brow. The power button on the intercom was the only light, and it was a faint green glow. "I am going to kill him when I get my hands on him Alphonse," Roy said, lifting his gaze. "You ever see a military beating?" In the dark, Alphonse's dim expression looked concerned. "I am going to thrash the tar out of him for this." Roy returned attention to the intercom. _Hawkeye had not answered._ "Hawkeye, say again," he said. "I asked what Ed is doing."

Hawkeye hit her Talk Button, opening communication. Roy heard her breath, but she didn't speak, and her silence was more powerful than her report. Roy felt the severity of the situation come at once, with Hawkeye struggling to report politely. "It's…" she said softly. "It's…rather hard to tell." Her voice was hesitating, but it was more than that, and Roy knew instantly what she was really doing: _LYING._

This changed everything.

Roy instinctively lifted his gaze to Alphonse, because Alphonse was the second party in all of this, and what he wanted to communicate was urgency, but what he accidentally shared was the birth of his own hysteria. His gaze had narrowed, as if with criticism, but it was situational fear. His dark eyes were an unending depth of fantasizing horror, while below them, his jaw was a rigid fossil. His heart was leaping onto his expression in cold dread, and Alphonse could see it.

"What is it?" Alphonse responded sounding scared. "Is he okay?"

"Keep going," Roy ordered, gesturing Alphonse continue with the intercom. Alphonse hesitated, and Roy snapped a loud commanding, "Keep going!"

Alphonse moved to scramble forward with immediate obedience, and fumbled awkwardly into a stop. Sounding panicked he yelled, "I stopped because the intersection leads to two dead ends!" Alphonse frantically indicated to the right and left of him. Roy crawled forward and took a look. "I am not sure which way to go." Roy gave Alphonse a cold stare, and Alphonse retaliated, and said, "Don't do that now Roy, this proves I am right! The military didn't build a duct that goes nowhere! Nii-san made this!"

"Well, why didn't he make it so we know which way to go?" Roy asked, keeping his voice in a low angry whisper. "Next time we do this, I expect breadcrumbs every god damn step!"

"He's not trying to slow us down, he's crediting our intelligence!"

"I would have preferred he'd drawn a map!" Roy said angrily, pushing to the left side and grabbing at the sealed end of the duct shaft. "When this is all over, I expect a long talk about how in life-and-death situations, I prefer to be treated like a retard if that means I get information when I need it!"

Alphonse only heard one phrase, and scrambled to the right side of the ductwork, with a loud, "Life and death!"

Roy swept the sealed duct shaft with his hands, studying carefully, but he couldn't feel the familiar surface faults of a transmutation. It was possible Ed had led them into a dead-end as a distraction. It was possible he was opening a wall or door. Roy felt his indecision attack viciously, causing a buzzing in his ears and a stinging in his sinuses. _Were they wasting their time going in the wrong direction?_

"Did you crack his code?" Roy asked Alphonse. He sat back, crouched into himself uncomfortably, and again wishing he wasn't in military attire. The vent was stale with no air movement, and his exertion was making him sweat.

In the darkness, Alphonse answered a soft, "No." He sounded ashamed. "I only managed half of it."

"What did it say?"

"It didn't say anything." Alphonse sounded a bit betrayed. "It was just numbers. I discovered sets, all reading backward. Meaning the bottom is the start, and the top of the finish, that's what he's implying." Alphonse's sounds of investigation stopped. There was a slight tremor in the metal framing as Alphonse sat back with a small defeated sigh, before muttering, "It's not wrong to be afraid of losing what you love." Roy closed his eyes. "We aren't strangers to bearing that pain, and we're also guilty of acting recklessly and impulsively because of it."

Roy imagined a dirt floor basement where a wealth of blood spread out amongst a transmutation circle, and one little boy sat bawling next to the empty clothing of the had-been second.

"Then you must understand," Roy said softly. "How foolish it is to repeat history, and not learn from it."

Alphonse made a sudden movement in the darkness. Something that might have been a recoiling flinch, or an aggressive dive forward. "I need you to help change his mind if he's in this much danger! Not desert him!"

"Your brother is an adult, even if he's not acting like one," Roy said angrily. "Jumping a sinking ship can be less honorable than riding it to the grave." Roy backed up from the sealed area of the duct, and rested his right boot sole on the metal wall. "I am not comfortable, or proud, of the decision I made, and where we ended up, but I am man enough to say I've made it. Your brother is too smart for his own good. I never wanted to be here. I never wanted to be worrying about someone like this, and we all knew this was coming."

"But what you've done hasn't made you worry any less!"

Alphonse was right, and Roy despised this. He hated the fact Ed shook him to his knees. That in the face of it he was powerless to protect himself from the pain loss would bring him. Even in his last desperate attempt to save himself, by ending things, he had not succeeded. He was still blanched, and certain of doom. If this air duct wasn't proof, he didn't know what was.

"Sir?" Hawkeye whispered into the intercom. "Are you all right?"

Roy lifted the intercom to his mouth. "No," he answered dryly. He felt that was accurate.

"Sir, I don't want to alarm you, but please, things are escalating."

"Describe the situation to me," Roy said, before lowering the intercom. "Alphonse, if you think Ed is exiting in only one direction, destroy your side, although it's unwise, we'll have to split up." He kicked forward with his right leg, and his boot went through the wall and into a void as if the back of the duct were tissue paper. Roy paused, stunned. He had not put enough strength into his leg to penetrate a sheet of metal, only dent it, and the false density made him confident Ed was going in this direction. _Ed had created a realistic, but easy to break façade._

"Mine won't budge!" Alphonse called.

Roy pulled his leg back and began kicking out the rest of the duct. "This way!" he called, tossing his ankle from left to right, shredding the remainder. In the darkness Alphonse crawled forward quickly, colliding with Roy's back, and for a moment, pawing at the shoulders of Roy's uniform not wanting to be left behind.

Faint light now swept into their shaft. They had arrived in a new room, several feet up from the floor. Roy slid out of the duct, and dropped to his feet looking around. They were in a dark office with barely any furniture, and all windows boarded up.

Roy lifted the intercom with Alphonse climbing out behind him. "Hawkeye," he said. "Say again."

"I am having a hard time with Alphonse's proximity," she said quickly.

"Don't worry about Alphonse," Roy ordered. "Answer my questions."

"The room is small, lighting artificial, but harsh. Perhaps, bare light bulbs," Hawkeye said, beginning shakily before managing a strong tone. "Camera right corner, Edward is a few feet from it into the room, bound at his feet, and hanging from the ceiling." She paused here, and Roy swallowed heavily. _Bound at his feet like an animal. _Roy felt his heart rate increase, and looked quickly to Alphonse, but Alphonse was investigating the room's single door and had not heard.

"We think we're going in the right direction, but there is no sure way to tell," Roy said quickly, confiding in her. The reality of the situation was the building's multi-level blueprint, with the military's own division of discrete halls and labs. The challenge of finding one person was gargantuan. With Ed scrupulously covering his tracks, and infiltrating with structural manipulation for seclusion, Roy was scared to think of the remora. "It could take us an hour or so to find him!" he confessed, frustrated.

"You do not have an hour sir," Hawkeye said, sounding dreadfully serious. "You need to get there quickly. Is Alphonse within ear shot?" _She couldn't help herself._

"Do not ignore my order," Roy snapped, before adding a quick, "and no he's not." _How could you blame her._

"Edward's safety looks to be in jeopardy," she said, whispering softly.

"Is there anything identifiable about the room you can see? Any clues at all?"

"No," Hawkeye sounded devastated.

Roy felt his temperature rising. The rest of the world was peeling away, and in its place was a brewing storm of detestation growing outward from his stomach. _He was going to rip Melander apart with his hands. _"Can you tell what level it might be on?" _Rip him to shreds._

"No."

"Is Ed alone?"

"There is a man with him," Hawkeye said quickly. "I haven't been able to make sense of what they're doing. Edward has been talking constantly, but the man does not seem to be…participating."

Roy dropped his gaze while trying to think. _Melander had to be with Ed. _The building had at least fifteen upward floors, and would have at least several basement levels. The inability to find Ed straight away while the desire was so profound caused an internal vibration, an absolute fury of immobility. "Is Ed injured?" Angrily Roy felt the thought, _Can't the little idiot get himself out of this himself! _cross his mind, but he bat it aside. There was time for verbal degradation later, when he was sitting at his desk, comfortably, with more coffee.

"I don't think so," Hawkeye said, and he heard the intercom come closer to her mouth. He could envision her leaning closer to the monitor, squinting to make out their poor quality imaging. "Edward is stripped down to his pants, and I can't see any wounds, but he is not calm. Sir, he looks very frightened."

Roy was taken back, and blurted, "Is he in immediate danger?" The pitch of surprise in his own voice startled him. _When it came to the bone of it, was he still so arrogant he thought they were untouchable? _Hawkeye was silent, and Roy felt a wave of panic, painful in intensity, sweep his body. "God dammit Hawkeye," he swore. "Why the hell didn't you say something!" In his head, a siren sounded so loud it drowned out all thought, and his legs felt heavy, and his boots mortared to the floor.

_It was paralyzing. _Fifteen plus floors, on average at least forty plus offices on each, all locked, most without power, and the manpower of only two!

"Hawkeye," Roy sputtered, tone battling overcoming shock and skepticism. "Explain to me," he said slowly. "Is he in immediate danger?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"Is he engaged in combat? Resisting?" Roy asked angrily. _How could this happen! _Hawkeye choked a small sound, a brittle worrisome cry, and Roy redirected his question because he understood that sound was her answer. That NO was the answer, and not just any no, an incapable, vulnerable, DANGEROUS no. "Is he restrained? Fully restrained!" Roy felt like his head was going to explode.

"Yes."

"Does the danger appear to be life threatening!" He was fisting the intercom with both hands.

She went silent, and then softly, barely audible, came a small, "Yes."

Was this how it would happen? Scurrying about the same maze, he would be searching blindly, frantically, and Hawkeye's scared and soft voice would narrate the gruesome details while begging him to move faster. _Even if he deployed men now, what could he do with them! He didn't know where to send them!_

"Sir?" Alphonse called, standing at the other side of the room looking clueless and desperate for adult directions. "I can't find indication of where to go." Alphonse sounded heartbroken while quickly gesturing to the locked door, boarded window, and large open wall that stood suspiciously clear. Ed could be doing anything! _The fucking genius could practically make anything!_ "I am feeling really anxious." Alphonse looked really anxious, and Roy heard Alphonse's words come floating back through his mind, _I think you should be taking this serious. _Alphonse had known, perhaps from the minute he had lifted Ed's twisted mind game out of the refrigerator, that something was critically wrong. That was why he had burst in at the dead of night, that was why there was yelling, brief swearing, running, destruction of vents, and this frantic edge that never seemed to dissipate from Alphonse's face. _You need to start taking what I am saying serious. _Alphonse had understood, while standing in front of his refrigerator, that somehow they would arrive here. Somehow, it would come to this, and at the eleventh hour, their smallest accomplishments would mean the most.

How did you say, _I am not sure what to do. _How did you say, _I think your brother is smarter than I am._

"Start with the door," Roy ordered firmly. Alphonse ran to it. Roy's voice suggested nothing of his internal mayhem. "Get it open." He wasn't confident opening this door would lead them anywhere, but having Alphonse idle was a crime.

Frantically Roy tried to conjure an advancing plan, but in some type of maddening handicap his brain lapsed repeatedly to the loud and single: BURN IT!

_Burn it, burn it all! _his mind said. Burn every hall, and every room, burn every door, set everything on fire, and open the building like a box! Send up the smoke, and take ownership like a god! Roy imagined the halls flooding with roaring fire, the boarded windows bursting outward, the miscellaneous tables, chairs, and scattered office equipment dropping apart into blackened twisted pieces of plastic and wire. Boiling in a pot of it came Melander, the straight expression of his passive face roasting like a pig over a spit. The eyeballs popping into sizzling white bits, the skin of his lips sliding off his face, the meat of his cheeks bubbling like fat. _We will rule with fire! _his mind screamed. _WE WILL RULE WITH FLAMES!_

"I—I am going to start a fire," Roy said, sounding desperate even to himself. His body was beginning to sweat heavily, and the center of his back was growing wet. "If I set it strategically, we'll know when it reaches Ed, because you'll see the flames." This was a horrible plan, but it was a plan. "That will tell us where he is."

"No," Hawkeye said, sounding wild.

"I can't search fast enough! There are only two of us, separation is unsafe!" _Alphonse was still so young._ "I can move the fire Hawkeye, using the main hall of each floor as a baker's oven, spreading backdraft upward. As quickly as I reach the floors, I can burn them. I'll start at the top."

"No!" She was frightened badly. "Ed is restrained! He won't be able to escape the flames! You'll cook him!"

"You said he's bound at the feet, that means his head is near the floor. That will keep him from the smoke, and I can get to him before the flames."

"Sir, you don't know that!"

"No, I don't," he said, grabbing at his face in blind panic. His hand was beginning to shake, and everything he envisioned was dancing in fire. It was the only thing he could control, it was the only thing he could do. He saw his pen cooking in wild leaping flames. The fine craftsmanship melting, the engraving of his insignia dissolving to nothing, and the ink bursting, bubbling, and bleeding outward. _Bleeding, and bleeding, and bleeding._

"Sir, please you've got to find him," Hawkeye said. "He's beginning to struggle in his binds. Please don't start any fires. Just give me the order and I'll send men! How long are we going to press the limit to keep Ed's crime a secret?" She was panicking. "We have to do something, he's going to be injured!"

Roy's felt a droplet of sweat run down his nose and drip free. He was breathing so hard it blew forward, and he watched it fall.

Hawkeye's panic lifted to insistence, and she demanded, "Orders sir?" She wanted the call made, and she wanted it now. There was no time to wait, and Roy knew this. He wore the crown, and success was his triumph, failure was his squalor.

Again, Hawkeye demanded a fierce, "Orders sir," but Roy's attention was drifting entirely to the floor beneath his feet. The linoleum, a standard office white, had rippled a foreign red color diagonally in two large strokes, and passed under his boots. The manipulation was unmistakably alchemy, and Roy watched the tiny bead of sweat from his nose, fall, and land in the center of a large deliberate red X.

As clearly as if Ed were present, Roy heard Ed say, _X marks the spot colonel._

* * *

Chapter 15 End, and I am sorry to leave you there.  
In fact I have to apologize in advance for the wealth of cliff hangers to come. They weren't deliberate, but these scenes are long, and without comfortable places to break them, this is what happens.

On a brighter note, I hope chapter 15 gave you some real excitement! Chapter 16 certainly should :)

Chapter 16: _X Marks the Spot_, will be posted next Friday 10/18/13. Of course, I hope to see you there.

Now - **Please go review!** This was a heart pounding chapter - tell me what you think! You guys are torture, I can see you reading like fiends! Favoring/following this story, and yet so few of you review. Don't be part of that statistic, put a comment in the review box. You'll be a better reader for it : )

* * *

Miscellaneous Marketing:  
To any of you enjoying this story, particularly the RoyxEd relationship as I write it, you might also enjoy my RoyxEd oneshot titled "Christmas" posted last holiday season as a gift. Whenever you post oneshots they really slip under the radar in all of two days, so I wanted to let you know it's there. You may get a chuckle reading that one, these two are ridiculous.


	16. X Marks the Spot

Foolish For You  
Chapter Sixteen  
_X Marks the Spot_

- mirage –

Roy dropped to his knees and pressed his hands onto the red color of the X. The intercom roughly cracked against the floor, its battlefield coating protecting the connection. Hawkeye's voice chirped from the handset with confusion, but Roy didn't hear it. His mind was still trying to catch up with his eyes, and giddily embrace the idea the duct had exited onto a fat red X.

Stroking his right palm over it in disbelief, Roy called out, "Alphonse!

Alphonse left the door and ran to Roy's side, startled with the new tone of insistence in Roy's voice. He stopped short of Roy and clambered to his knees, looking wildly about for the purpose of their ducking.

"Very carefully," Roy said, poking a finger down on the center of the X. "I want you to put a few holes into this ceiling. They need to be small and unnoticed. Dust and such can't fall through to the other side."

"What is?" Alphonse muttered, digging the chalk from his pocket while coming to understand the X present on the floor. "An X!" he cried, breaking into a fast panicked laugh. "Want to make some comic book jokes now Colonel?" Alphonse asked, sketching with frenzy.

"No I don't," Roy said angrily, watching the tiny circle sketch out in quick white lines until Alphonse activated it, and melted four dime sized pinpricks into the ceiling.

In thin beams light shot into the room forming transparent white poles, and sound followed.

"—handle anything like this!" Ed became audible from the room beneath them. "Please, you've got to listen to what I am saying Jacob. I am very, _very_, alarmed with this equation, and I think that we need to talk this through!"

Simultaneously Roy and Alphonse dropped an eye to a hole, and tried to see.

Melander began speaking, and Alphonse twitched with a bit of fear. The man's presence, even as voice alone was a powerfully commanding, and dominating, aura. Roy had read the size and weight of Melander's body in his file, and the metrics were impressive. Scientists were stereotypically thin willowy people, with feeble arms capable of lifting books and not weapons. Their eyesight was poor, behind thick glasses, their noses runny, and their voices meek, squirrely, and indecisive with constant thought.

Melander was a goliath, with the body of a combat soldier. He filled a suit with nothing to spare, with heavy broad set shoulders, and triumphant steps. His research had always been powerfully received, and Roy suspected it had as much to do with longstanding Generals and Brigadiers visually approving of Melander's hearty company, as it did with the majesty of it.

Now audible from what felt like a dark malevolent pit, Roy felt the word dungeon rising to his tongue. Entrance into the room below them was not infiltration into a military office, it was entrance into Melander's stomach, into the nest of the man. They had opened only four thin slivers of the room, but it was leaking out in the smell of chemicals, and somehow, squeamish bowel-loosening fear. Roy imagined it a spoiled yellow color, as if someone had pissed about the floor below them, and it reminded him of an open grave. Flashes of carelessly-tossed rag-dressed bodies came to him from Ishval, and he shivered from the spine down when he felt he could smell the open flesh and dead meat.

"Edward, you have to understand what I am doing here," Melander said. His voice had an oily quality, the slow and drawling pronunciation of the educated physician, merging with something disproportionately sinister. "This is perfect," Melander said, controlling his volume. "This is science!" He was enthralled.

"This is not science!" Ed sounded hysterical in comparison.

"Edward, don't insult us." Melander scolded. "You said you wanted to get rid of the automail. You said this Edward. You said you were open to anything."

"Don't feed me sick fucking diplomacy Jacob!" Ed said, suddenly bursting with anger. "I am not really feeling like a fucking partner strung up from the ceiling like a fucking cow!" Roy was trying desperately to get a view of the room from his position, but all that was in sight was the floor. There was the sound of a quick movement, an unbalanced piece of furniture jostled harshly, rattling its contents, and Ed added a fast, "But that's okay!" Ed's tone reduced to apologetic submission. "I am sorry, I wasn't being rude, I am being cooperative, it's okay." Ed sounded nervous, timid, and grossly fearful of agitating Melander despite his previous outburst. This gave the situation a foreign edge. Roy had not heard Ed's voice fit to the emotion of harrowing retreat since the boy had spent a year certified, and learned most men had more bark than bite when it came to a child.

There was the sound of furniture correcting, and Ed continued speaking.

"You—you and me are—we're—we're men of science," Ed said, gaining his bearings. "But—and that's—that's great—we're a great team you and I! You want me to work with you, because I am good. I am smart Jacob, and we—we could do great things! I—I can help you!" Ed's tone was that of begging. "But I can't help you if I am dead," Ed said, sounding extremely nervous. "Are you listening to me Jacob?" Anger was returning quickly. "I can't help you if I am dead."

Alphonse sat up with alarm, and looked to Roy for direction. Sounding full of confidence Alphonse said, "We have to take down Melander."

"I need you to make a transmutation circle to bring down the ceiling," Roy whispered, pointing about the floorboards of the room to illustrate what he meant. _ALL OF IT! _"Bring down everything but Ed's section. If there is a transmutation circle on the floor, I want too much rubble for it to be used."

"Edward, stop becoming excited," Melander said. "You're raising your blood pressure, and you will bleed quickly in that state."

When this was said Alphonse's expression fell into a pale taunt mask of his normally cheerful face. Looking haunted, he gave Roy a slow, single nod, and quietly climbed to his feet. Ed was silent below them. They had all heard Melander's plans. Alphonse's eyes were wide and glassy with suffering, but gracefully, he backed up a few steps, dropped to his knees, and began to draw.

Roy lifted the intercom to his mouth. "Hawkeye," he whispered. "We have located Ed. Deploy backup, get them here quickly in case this does not go well." He explained their location.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, sounding scared.

From the room below the sound of a table being cleared came to the ringing of everything on top of it falling to the floor. Metal items clapped loudly against the linoleum, and several glass items smashed.

"Jacob!" Ed yelled. "Jacob, I am not kidding! You need to stop this! Think about this! I can help you with your research! Both of our minds working together, what a gift."

"Oh Edward," Melander said, lowering his voice to something affectionately kind. "You've already given me the best gift there is." Melander fit his role as an enemy with eerie perfection. The heft of his words carried the imposing size of him, and the arrogance of it, his insatiable hunger. "You've given me a chance for hope. For her, and all that's needed are some easily miniscule modifications."

"_What modifications!_" Ed screamed, voice carnal with fury. "No modifications! _No!_" Ed said. "Listen to me Melander! This—this is crazy! It won't work! You're going to kill me! We don't have the research to support this! If you make me your guinea pig, I can't help you! Without the skill set for organs and working systems, you're going to kill me!"

Alphonse was working frantically, his body shaking. Transmutation circles were large complicated things, and the sweeping circles, small diagrams, and bit of alchemic words and phrases, were painstaking and detailed. The greater the transmutation's result, the grander the design, and Alphonse's arm was sweeping rapidly right and left, bowing the circle's outline, dragging in quick radius dissection, and beautiful curving tips.

"Edward, I am going to heal you quickly, so you won't die." Melander was calm, and spoke with detached confidence. His footsteps were present moving about the room in triumphant stomps. "Then with some adjustments it will be right between us." Roy heard something glass be shoved along a wooden surface, and imagined a row of beakers being carelessly pushed across a work bench. "I'll put a pan down on the floor, to keep the mess." Melander's tone became educational, as if to include Ed. "I will move you to the table after."

"A pan!" Ed screamed.

"Sir, my god," Hawkeye whispered. "Are you going to stop this!"

_Rip him to shreds._

Roy bent down and looked through the holes. Two displayed the floor of the lower room, the third now an undisclosed surface with medical equipment that made Roy shiver, and Alphonse's previous hole framed Ed, hanging by his feet and topless as Hawkeye had described.

Ed was a mess, with skin shimmering with sweat, and his golden hair hanging like a mop toward the floor. His wrists looked bound above his head. Natural for the position, Ed's expression was bright with color. His brow was a permanent wrinkle, with several veins in his neck and forehead, visible. Greater than the flush to Ed's cheeks, was the pink color to his nose symbolizing distress. It bled a speckled reddened hue about Ed's eyes, which had turned into wide white ovals with a single golden dot in the middle, as if two eggs had been cracked into the oval of Ed's face. Their outline was irritated and blood-shot with manic insanity, and Ed's gaze was fixated on Melander, in abject terror.

This brought the true fear of self-preservation to Roy. It was the broadened fear of recognizing the uniquely uncommon skill-level capable of threatening another alchemist, expanded with the specific raw ingenuity and brilliance needed to target the Fullmetal Alchemist.

In the Sahara, the feared lion had few predators, but even a lion was smart enough to recognize when he was prey.

Ed's visual anxiety was a mental and emotional aneurism for Roy, and with his mouth growing dry, and the sound of Alphonse's scrapping chalk thundering in his ears, Roy watched Ed find the courage to keep talking, while looking ready to piss himself.

"Look, you and I, we can talk about this," Ed said, sounding defeated, and nearly incapable of enduring the stress of his situation much longer. Every system was at its brink, working into overtime and overdrive, and grinding gears until they were white clanking bones dragging scraps of meat and white tendons. Upside down Ed's neck and ears throbbed with the swollen weight of blood, and his head felt packed to the brim with lead. The world was a fuzzy, coppery smelling, reversed image, designed in the darkest pages of science fiction works.

Melander had become the monstrous antagonist, laughing manically, fumbling about his mismatched tools with shaking hands of excitement. Organization of the insane kept him arranging and rearranging the same uncapped syringes, the flopping intravenous tubing, the razor-sharp scalpels. Roy couldn't see the table Melander was accessing, but he could hear the items clanking. Shuffling quickly, Melander was an intermittent blink before the man took a moment to stand still, and thread a long black line of surgical suture into a needle.

"Melander?" Ed called, watching Melander's filthy gloved hands empty near a spool through the eye of the silver toothpick. "Jacob?"

Desperate to find an anchor in madness, Ed mentally kept count of all supplies he saw. Cataloguing every obscure sound and sight, every item, chemical, and blade, in despairing, perhaps useless, hope. As if paralyzed, he stared on with glassy steadfast eyes. His human lineage was not ready to accept defeat deaf of hope. Frenetic something course-changing occur, Ed forced himself to keep mental tether, and be ready.

Even of little faith, progression seemed intolerably surreal, and impossible. Life was extending another hand, and it seemed absurd to have it again, so full of cruelty and pain. Failing to identify higher orchestration was not consent there was none, and hanging by his ankles, Ed felt his mind stretching outward, and waiting for this orchestrating party to somehow, in some way, intervene! _Come on fate, you bitch. _He felt like crying. _Was your supply so unwilling, we'd have this irony again! _

He burped up a mouthful of stomach bile, and quickly swallowed it down. He wasn't going to concede to petrified vomiting, and he didn't want to hang over a puddle with the ends of his hair painting it about in brush strokes, either.

Pathetically came the phrase, save me, but Ed were ready for it. Pride fell in the face of gut-wrenching fear, and he was ready to grovel. Getting out of this was more important than admission of how insignificantly doltish our behavior was, and his mind continued to push forward in nothing, if not stubborn determination and unbending acknowledgement, of how close we were to the precipitous of absolute panic.

_"Pay attention!" _it screamed. "If you lose your focus you will go insane waiting for the knife. _You coward! _If you lose you focus, you will be a child._ You chicken shit coward!"_

Melander was pleasantly focused, abandoning most conversation, and working skillfully with his few tools. They came into view at random, a test tube, rust covered forceps, thin and long surgical scissors, and carving pens capped with tiny scalpel-sharp tips. The plan was starkly obvious, while hideously obscure. Something was going to be cut, something was going to be sewn, and all of it was going to happen soon.

Ed's esophagus kept deteriorating in function to brief spasms, as his stomach tried to empty. The reversed order of things was unkind, and swaying mentally, with the image of reality biting sharper and sharper, controlling stomach muscles was becoming less of a focus. Ed was acquainted with surgery where his body was cut open, sewn closed, and swelled, stung, and itched in tormenting gradual repair. Slit pieces bled, missing pieces bled, and so far from medical care, his brain kept struggling to add the steps and minutes needed to get free of the building and to a phone, or at the very least, the street. His mind envisioned him on his stomach, dragging his split open belly, with squiggles of intestines catching around his knees, and the floor a carpet of red blood behind him.

Could he make it if he was bleeding so heavily it was enough to slip in? Or coordinate if gouges were missing? If the blade went someplace sensitive, like the artery in his neck, creating a pulsing, spurting fountain? Or into something soft and easy to rupture like his stomach?

The image of a filthy yellow liquid swimming over bright bloody meat kept assaulting Ed as he envisioned a long pinprick popping his stomach like a balloon, and drenching septic bile out into his intestines and organs like a stream of internal piss.

Ed's mouth rushed with another burst of vomit, and he forced it back down. He was losing his stamina, and his mind was collapsing to clear white places. It was becoming harder to argue, in physical retreat, it was becoming harder to see and even talk.

_Told you so, told you so, _Melander's smile said. _Told you so, told you so. _It felt like they were all laughing.

So come into my nest, said the owl to the mouse. So wise am I, so much information to share, and hopeful and cheerful the mouse went in. So come into my nest, said the hungry owl to the unsuspecting mouse, and innocent and sanguine the mouse went in.

_I am certain of it_, Roy's voice rang out in Ed's memory. _You are in danger!_

"I—I can help you get someone else," Ed offered softly, feeling the fool, the pathetic fool.

"There is no one else Edward," Melander said dryly. Roy moved to the other holes, trying to see the man. "You are the only one with the same mind."

These words made Ed laugh, a deep-throated, and scared chuckling. "Oh, please don't do this," Ed said, squirming where he hung. His ankles were immobile, and under the weight of his own body, his strength had rotted with fatigue, and limbs were too gelatin to even lift properly. "Jacob please, please don't do this." Roy had his eye to the hole when Melander came into view. The top of Melander's head was the most prominent, and Melander's visible wide smile came second to the massive gleaming knife in his hand. "Okay," Ed whispered, voice shaking on sight of it. "Please…don't do this to me." Ed lifted his hands the meager inch he could. "You'll kill me. I am certain I'll die." Ed's eyes were filling with tears of fear when Melander began crossing the room. "Please just! What—what about dis—disinfectant! Get some disinfectant! Fuck Melander! Fuck!" Ed began stammering uncontrollable, voice shaking. "G—give this—this more…thought." His voice was going horse in panic, and choking out on him.

"I've given it months Edward."

Roy lifted his gaze from the hole and looked to Alphonse. "How soon!" he whispered frantically.

Alphonse was breaking into tears as he worked, and scrubbed them away with a quick rub of his forearm. "I am almost done!"

"When the ceiling goes out from under us, let yourself ride it, understand? We have to get into the room as quickly as possible."

Alphonse nodded, whimpering down to his sketching.

"Sir," Hawkeye croaked. Roy leaned back to the hole. "Sir," she said, again, voice cracking with tears. "If you don't do something, he's going to be injured." She sounded heartbroken, and Roy leaned down in time to see Melander step up to Ed, and rest the tip of his knife against Ed's belly button.

Ed choked a rough, and madcap sound of endurance, closing his eyes, and waiting for the stab. The image of his organ's floating in the soup of spilling stomach bile took hold of Ed's mind, and paused, waiting for the nightmare to become reality. The blade was moving softly, almost tenderly, until it slipped into the rivet of Ed's belly button and poked. Sharpened surgically, it made an unintentionally incision, and blood welled within the tiny pocket.

"Fuck!" Ed screamed, flinching, and trying to move his torso away. The tiny harmless pain was a horrible tease. "What! What the fuck are you doing! What!"

Melander ignored Ed. He tipped his head down, and stared at his feet. Unsound, he still held the fortitude of his title and certification. His capable girth and strength, kept him tall, and from the ceiling Roy could see the man's tanned complexion, but not the sharp merciless eyes. Most colleges did more than respect Melander, they feared him. He brought forth a controversial science with dangerous, blinded-vigor, and exploratory bloodlust. Towering over Ed's strung up pencil thin body, the man looked like a hunter preparing to gut a rabbit.

"The floor," Melander said softly, tone drifting with his thoughts. "The blood shouldn't run. This room is alchemically level, so there won't be too great a mess."

"Watch out for my fucking liver, Jacob!" Ed cried, body shaking. "Move the knife! Get it off me!"

"Edward?" Melander said, sounding bored and conversational in tone. "I have chosen to cut at a thirty-degree angle, I think this will be the most efficient."

Roy tried to call to Alphonse, desperate for them to get into the room, but his voice failed him.

"No!" Ed screamed.

"You think a forty-five degree angle then?

"No!" Ed screamed. "Get the fucking knife off me! Don't cut me! Don't fucking cut me!" Ed was switching wildly between vicious anger, and tearful sounding horror. "That's what I think!" Ed choked. "Not to cut me!"

Melander moved the knife, and Ed cried out a sound far too exaggerated for the careless and accidental nick of the blade against his abdomen. Sounding baffled Melander said, "But I have to cut you. There is no other way to do it. I have given this studious attention."

"Alphonse?" Roy asked, voice hard, wrathful, and uncontrolled. _"How much longer?"_

"You want the ceiling to come down!" Alphonse cried, in hysteria. "Then let me focus!"

Roy watched Melander set his thumb to the small bleeding line in Ed's stomach as if fascinated with the leak, and Roy said, "We have no time. Understand, Alphonse! _None!_"

"Okay Edward," Melander said, retracting his thumb and looking at the red smear along his fingerprint. "We'll do it your way." Ed released a wild sound of relief, and looked to be wobbling his head in a weak nod, before Melander finished with, "Forty-five degrees."

Melander stuffed his empty hand into Ed's open fly. Ed recoiled with the intrusion, and tried to wiggle himself away, crying out a loud, "Fuck Jacob!"

Roy was taken back with the psychosis of such a thing, and stared in horror, brain working slow and stupefied, before like an explosion, comprehension came violently in a mental spasm. Suddenly, Roy understood, and he envisioned Melander slaving away over a desk in a dark room. Melander was nose deep in a book, hands scrawling out equations of blasphemy before, Ed arrived like a beacon of light.

_Modifications._

One year ago Melander had lost his lab assistant, complete support structure, and lifelong partner. He had lost his wife, and the void she had plummeted into the man's dark and macabre hell, was a slot Ed had accidentally stepped into. _His wife. Lost his wife._

"Oh my god," Roy said. Jacob Melander didn't think Ed was his wife, he was trying to make Ed his wife! This wasn't about the face, this was about the entire body! "Alphonse!" Roy yelled. "Get us through!" He felt like screaming, and his sinuses convulsed into a coppery nose-bleeding sensation. His hands clamped down squeezing the intercom, with his eye pressed to the hole in terror. "Now Alphonse! Your brother is going to be mortally wounded!"

"I am almost done!"

"_Get us through! Get us through!" _

What options were there! With the thought of Ed in life threatening danger Roy dropped the intercom, and brought his right hand to Alphonse's third hole, fingers poised to snap. _He could ignite fire in the room and do what he could for Ed. _He would send it in, aiming at Melander, but through such a small space, with such poor visibility, and with Melander's proximity nearly on top of Ed, there was no way to keep Ed entirely safe. Hating himself, Roy stomached the logic that in battle, a blade was sometimes more merciful than fire. Until he was certain it would hit something vital, or cut an artery, he would show restraint even if Melander was able to manage a few stabs before they arrived.

"Alphonse! God dammit!" Roy cried.

Alphonse was too hysterical to respond, and continued drawing with his arm shaking so badly the developing array looked as if it were made of sand, and hit with a small gust of wind.

"Please!" Ed was screaming now. "Please! I'll work with you! I'll help you! Please, don't do this to me! Jacob! Please!" Ed was breaking into tears. "Oh fuck," Ed sobbed. "Oh fuck, you're going to fucking kill me!" Ed began squirming frantically. Bound at either end, his mid-section flopped about as uselessly as a fish on a hook, and Ed broke into a mess of delirious profanity, desperate pleas, and vulgar threats. His body activated the metal arm and metal leg, pulling with full strength to get free, and Ed feebly tore at Melander's shins with his fingers, and open mouth to bite the man. He was doing all he could as the victim, and Melander, as the predator, ignored it calmly. He was no more concerned with Ed's squirming than the lion, who ignored the gazelle's kicking legs as it bled out.

Melander pulled Ed's flaccid penis from Ed's fly before pressing the boy's pants up his thighs. Ed's tight leather was slowing things down, and Roy screamed, _"Melander!"_

Roy's lungs pushed forth a homicidal baritone that consumed the upper room, and dropped onto Melander like a brick.

Melander's left arm twitched with sudden surprise, but the man had become possessed, and was not distracted. He lifted the knife to Ed's hips, and Ed was staring upward threatening Melander in a capitalizing vocabulary that was as splendid as it was schizophrenic.

"Ten seconds!" Alphonse cried.

"Sir, for the love of god!" Hawkeye cried, sounding hysterical. "Can't you get to him! He's going to be injured!"

"Hawkeye, call an ambulance!" Roy said, seething into the intercom. Speech was becoming difficult. His right eye had begun an uncontrollable twitching, and his throat felt like it was closing slowly. His body was turning to stone, one muscle at a time, and his hands were shaking fists. "Get an ambulance here now! Have Ed's blood type on hand! Call Central General, let them know we're coming!"

"I can't watch this!" Hawkeye cried. "I have to turn it off sir, please!"

"Keep it on!"

Ed was going wild, yelling insensibly. "Melander! Stop it! You'll fucking kill me! You bedlamite asshole! You son of a bitch! I will fucking tear you apart! I will fucking kill you for this!" Ed sounded maniacal, with speech operating only on the most primitive level, while Melander prattled on serene reassurances as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening.

Then, after several loud pleas, Ed began screaming at a pitch beyond anything natural. It was a song of overwhelming human suffering, and it told Roy what he feared happening was happening. The blade was going in, and things were being sawed off.

"Stand up!" Alphonse called out. "Back away Colonel! Back away from my brother!" Alphonse jerked back to his knees, and clapped. In a brief moment of pause, with Roy scrambling away in a frantic crawl, Alphonse looked trapped in prayer. Then he slapped his palms to the floor, and the transmutation lit the room into a soothing ocean blue, and the entire floor shook.

Alphonse's palms sent out a powerful tremor. Roy was managing to his feet, and the sudden thunder of it sent him staggering, before the ceiling began to break systematically in the design of a spiral.

Thick four-by-four squares of the floor suddenly let loose. Dropping in architectural pallets from the center of the X outward, the disintegration was strategic. Timed for an even stomping into the room below, the sound of it was monstrous. The first crash downward collapsed upon impact, shooting a train-whistle's puff of white sheetrock dust and insulation into the air. Roy watched it fire upward into their room in a thin violent stream, like a volcano bursting. The ground was shaking below his feet, and in panic Roy looked to Alphonse, but Alphonse was the master of this theater, and was sitting braced on the crumbling floor. Cleverly, Alphonse had assigned their exact locations to be individual squares, and he suddenly fell out of sight when his let loose and sunk into the room below.

When Roy's detached, he had the sensation of falling off a moving sled. There was a sudden weightlessness, and then a sudden collision. The lower room was a cloud of smoking dust, with the collapsing ceiling dropping and exploding like well-timed bombs. Everything in the room was destroyed. Roy heard the combusting of glass utensils and wooden furniture crunching, and hoped that something jagged, or heavy, found Melander's skull.

In the steel snapping mayhem Roy lost his footing. He fell into the mess coughing and choking on the thick powder of manufactured construction, and quickly, with a skill born of war, pulled his shirt over his mouth, and hid his body. For the moment, he did not know where anyone was, and in what condition. Evasively he allowed himself to tumble into the debris, carefully controlling his movements, and protecting the most sensitive parts of himself.

Building rubble was not natural stone and earth terrain, it had sharp pieces of metal, glass, rocky concrete, and steel rods. It was a landscape of dangerous skin-ripping and bone-breaking wreckage.

Gathering equilibrium, Roy slowly climbed to his feet, and became the murky silhouette of the only standing man in the room. The scent of concrete consumed the air, and the hard rock fragrance jumbled with sheetrock, military paint, and interior mold stormed Roy's sinuses. The particles were fine, swarming his windpipes, and reducing visibility like thick fog. Temporarily lost in a powdered world of drifting dust, he was still, because the room had gone silent. Alphonse had wielded the floor like a hammer, and the aftermath blizzard stopped life.

"Alphonse?" Roy called, taking his first step forward, and promptly slipping. He caught himself, slipped again, and then stood still. The ground was a collection of uprooted concrete plates. Barely any surface was exempt, and every slant was pitted in dangerous twisted metal and sharp rock. "Alphonse!" Roy understood Ed to be to the right of him, and lifting his leg in a high exaggerated motion, stepped forward in that direction. He planted his boot carefully. Next to his gloves and hands, the need to preserve his mobility was paramount.

Roy lowered his voice to something he would call pitiable, and called a worried, "Ed?" _Ed had not made a sound since the destruction._

Alphonse sat up several feet behind Roy, coughing and holding his head. "Where's…" Alphonse choked. "What's—Where's Melander? Where are you Colonel!"

Roy looked back and watched Alphonse fumble to his feet. Alphonse became a shadow in the settling dust, an erect figure, under a glowing halo. Awestruck, Roy stared at the bright golden color. He was mute. In the face of this, words left him, and he watched Alphonse move. Stepping forward, with clumsy uncertainty, Alphonse called out again. His tone was strong, with edgy commitment to exert strength the moment he found a target, but also frightened, longing for a home base while blind behind enemy lines.

"Sir!" Alphonse called out. "Nii-san!"

"Be careful," Roy ordered firmly, pointing to the fiasco about the floor. Alphonse was coming into view, and the sound of Roy's voice caused Alphonse to look quickly toward the source. His eyes appeared just like Ed's, in two candle flames, and Roy came to recognize the halo as the boy's hair. _There was no explanation for why it seemed to glow. _

Alphonse looked to the floor when he realized Roy was pointing at it. "Pick up a weapon," Roy ordered hastily. "And cover your airways." Alphonse lifted the bottom of his tee shirt and held it to his nose and mouth. Frantically he visually searched about the rubble for something suitable, before picking up a jagged board.

Roy turned from Alphonse and looked behind him. The shadowed figure of Ed hanging from the ceiling was now visible. "Ed," Roy said softly, moving faster. "Can you hear me?" he called. "I am almost there." He tried to sound comforting, when in reality; he thought he sounded like a desperate fool. There was vomit in his mouth, but he didn't remember growing ill. His brow was wet with sweat, and the shake of his knees caused a sense of physical betrayal. _As a young boy he held it together during Ishval, and he damn-well-better do the same now._

"Get me down," Ed whispered. "Get me down please."

"Colonel!" Alphonse called, sounding scared. Roy's movement had taken him from Alphonse's visibility, and Roy could see Alphonse looking around himself. "Where are you!"

Roy paused, and carefully stabilized his footing on a jumbled lot of twisted sprinkler system pipe, and several sheets of linoleum tile. "Step carefully, and come to my voice Alphonse," Roy said, maintaining a firm commanding tone. _In this broken world of lung squelching powder he rang out as authority. Without him, this land had no king._

"Okay, I…" Alphonse stiffened when someone stepped up behind him.

In a dark cloud, Melander became swarming blackness rising over Alphonse's smaller body, and grinning down at the boy. Speaking to Alphonse in a soft tone Melander said, "Edward."

Alphonse whirled around in fear, and stared up at Melander's twisted soggy expression in frozen shock.

"You're such a beautiful thing," Melander said. "You can be her. You'll bring her back." Melander was bleeding down his face, and coated in the filth from the floor's ruins. The man's lip was ripped in half, cutting it like the tongue of a snake, but he appeared not to notice. With a mouth filled in runny saliva-based blood, he said, "I don't understand why you would fight becoming so much more beautiful," and a long soup of drool went down his chin and dropped to the floor.

Alphonse was slowly lifting the board in his hand, and with wide eyes, moved to swing, but Melander was fast. He reached out, snatched Alphonse by the neck, and lifted his arm upward in a rigid single movement, yanking Alphonse off his feet.

"You displeased me," Melander said, becoming angry. Alphonse grabbed at Melander's hand with his empty right, gasping silently. At his side he clung to the board, hesitant to swing. "Lied to me," Melander added, beginning to snarl. "Told me you'd do anything to help me!"

Melander's voice was hidden in the distance for Roy, and he called out, "Alphonse, where is Melander!" Frantically he visibly swept the room trying to make out a second person, but it appeared empty. "Alphonse, get to me!" Roy ordered, yelling loudly. "I am sending out fire!" He lifted his arm and prepared to snap.

The shadowed clump that was Alphonse, began changing shape, and while it first appeared Alphonse might be changing height as he obeyed and scaled the terrain, Roy realized Alphonse's shadow had become two people when it began expanding in girth. From where Roy stood, Alphonse's shadow was mutating into a large dark mass, and his brain told him what to do: _BURN IT!_

Wildly Roy waved at the dust in the air. It flew into a snowflake swirling catastrophe, becoming worse, and in fury, Roy snapped. He shot a quick spurt of fire outward, consuming the oxygen in a thick five foot radius, and the captured dust dropped to the ground as heavy ash, and cleared the air.

Alphonse became visible as a glowing halo in Melander's monstrous fist, and Roy felt a heat inside himself explode as soon as he laid eyes on Melander. The detonation consumed his stomach, and shot rapidly into his limbs like adrenaline, curling his lips back from his teeth making him rabid. He went forward several commanding steps, and bellowed a deep, ferocious, "Jacob Melander!"

Melander had three feet on Alphonse, and the man's bloody face was a wide toothy smile made grotesque by the blood. He looked up in confusion, and that distraction was all Alphonse needed. Alphonse swung the board into Melander's head like a baseball bat, and Melander dropped Alphonse, staggering back.

Alphonse fell to his knees, coughing and holding his neck.

"Alphonse, come here!" Roy called, stepping forward with his hand extended. "Get away from him! Get out of my blast radius!" Alphonse was trying to obey, and scrambled blindly into the sloping twisted rubble as if trying to run from a beast.

Wildly Roy's eyes jumped between Alphonse and Melander, fingers twitching impatiently. Melander was continuing to back out of visibility, and again Roy opened his mouth to call to Alphonse. He wanted to fire, but Alphonse, finally managing a breath, interrupted, and his horse cry was so innocent, Roy found it confounding.

Alphonse sounded years younger. The change in vocals made him Edward's thirteen-year-old self, while the stridulous quality put him back in the armor. The haunting unexpected reintroduction to the sound of a young armored Alphonse Elric was poignant. Roy faltered; eyes locked on Alphonse as Alphonse inelegantly achieved footing and ran from Melander.

Melander had a powerful presence in the room, and it was not of a man, but a monster.

Alphonse dashed to Roy's side like a child to their father, and Roy wrapped a possessive arm about Alphonse's shoulders, and held the boy tight. He could no longer see Melander, and his eyes were searching the room quickly.

Alphonse was shaking, and trying not to cough with his nose buried in the crook of his elbow. "I didn't see him approach," Alphonse said, sounding worried and apologetic. "I didn't see him!" Alphonse began looking everywhere, frantically."Nii-san?" Alphonse called, nervously, pushing out of Roy's grasp for exploration.

Roy didn't lower his gaze from the room, and softly, his mind whispered a confident,_ Burn it, _paused, waiting for his action, and added, _Set it on fire and kill him. _

Roy sent out a steam of defensive fire, aiming at nothing in particular, but panning left and right. The room lit with an orange glow, and the rapid depletion of drifting particles kicked back the smell of ash. In the dark setting, Roy's extended arm appeared a flame thrower, and after the burst small patches of rubble continued to burn in tiny camp fires.

"Find Ed Alphonse," Roy said, "I'll—" _I'll watch for Melander, _he was going to say, before Alphonse cut him off with an uncontrolled, "Nii-san!" Alphonse's feral scream scared Roy, and his body shook. He turned around quickly, with Alphonse running, stumbling, and tripping, with an outstretched arm, toward Ed who was now becoming visible.

"Nii-san!" The settling dust and ash was a quiet snowfall, and Ed, who hung stationary from the ceiling, was collecting it in a thin film. His body looked dusted with flour, causing the black of his pants, and tan of his skin to appear faded, and the large river of blood running down his stomach and chest, sprinkled with cheese.

"Colonel!" Alphonse was hysterical. "Do something!"

Roy went still, his extended arm and poised fingers lowered slowly in a daze. The blood on Ed's body, and the amount of it, _the visual_, paralyzed him. Like a man who had never seen what could be called a bloodbath, or massacre, or the desolate rot of war, he stared, viewing for the first time, the sight of a wilting life under the emotional strain and horror of that life belonging to his lover's gutted body, teetering on the edge of death.

Alphonse ran to Ed's side and dropped to his knees. "Nii-san! We'll get you off of here!" He looped his arms under Ed's shoulders to hoist Ed up, but Ed shouted in pain.

The sound of Ed's cry woke Roy from his trance, and heart in his throat, he screamed, "No!" He ran to Ed. "Leave him be!"

Alphonse withdrew his hands, gaping uselessly, before managing a trembling, "Nii-san! What's cut! Nii-san, where's your wound!" Alphonse looked to Roy, and demanded, "Cauterize the wound!"

Roy bit off his ammunition glove, and ran his flesh palm carefully onto Ed's blood covered stomach. The blood leaked from Ed's hips, but Melander could have been stabbing, could have been jacking his elbow rapidly, stabbing, stabbing, stabbing, stabbing. Roy was scared to death there were slits in Ed's stomach. That Ed had been punctured like a fat pomegranate, and the red meat-fruit of him was mixing into the pulp of his organs with scrapes of his stomach lining drifting about in tiny fleshy seeds.

"Where's the wound Ed!" Roy called sharply.

Ed looked mopped with red paint. It ran like a stream down his front, into his neck, over his ear, soaking his hair, brush-painting his fingers, and was dripping off the side of his forehead. Ed's expression was anguished, but tired.

"Get him down! Get him off this!" Alphonse cried, in a tone of frenzied rage. "He's going to bleed to death!"

"He'll lose the blood in his legs first this way!" Roy said, bending down to Ed's face. "Ed, Edward!" He grabbed Ed's chin. Ed's expression was wincing so tightly, it looked as if the boy should be sobbing. His body was rigid, spine painfully straight, and so entirely recoiled it were as if even his atoms had pulled back, cringing, eyes closed, and palms over their ears. "Edward!" Roy yelled, raising his tone viciously. _"Edward!"_

Ed's body convulsed, releasing an explosion of an exhale, and Roy realized Ed, in endurance, had been holding a single breath, and now without it, lost his composure.

Ed came to life in every way. His hands lifted forward, rattling the chains linking them to the floor, and grabbed at Roy's leg. Ed's murky vision saw the Amestrian blue, and groped in desperate want of comfort and safety.

About Ed's wrists, Melander had curled either end of a metal pipe. The crude design flawlessly deactivated Ed's alchemy by creating a one-piece spreader bar, removing Ed from every surface, and impossible to wiggle out of. Linked to the floor with a basic metal chain, Melander designed Ed's restrains carefully, but simplistically, allowing the weight of Ed's body to keep him stationary and taunt at either end. Briefly, Roy recalled the contents of Melander's personnel file, and felt the man's genius was his unadornment. Without assiduity Melander destroyed the scientifically labyrinthine into the frank calendar of civilized law. With an ease that brought fear, he brought solution from matter toiled over for decades.

In a mental design of gold and black colors Roy saw Edward being strung out in an equation. Ed was bright numbers calculated to intense infinities with bold variables heading off square roots under massive multiplication. _Was that what we were in the end? Was that all Melander had done? Capture Ed's equation?_

"Aha," Ed broke into sobs. "Get me off this!" Ed hugged Roy's calf and pushed his face into Roy's military pants. "This hurts!" Roy felt Ed's fingers claw into his leg, and the automail was frightening. Ed was trying to manage the pain, but it was blinding, and Roy could feel Ed shaking badly. "Fuck it hurts so bad! Stop my bleeding!"

"Nii-san, where is your wound! Colonel find the wound!" Alphonse was wiping the blood from Ed's face with his tee shirt, and raking the sharp debris away from Ed's hands. "Colonel, get him down! I'll disconnect his hands!" Alphonse began a transmutation circle, drawing on brittle pieces of crushed linoleum

Roy traced his way to Ed's pants, sweeping his hand up and down the bloody torso of Ed's body, before trying to husk Ed's blood caked fly up without hurting the boy. Ed was beginning to openly sob, and this was a sound Roy had never heard.

"Nii-san, nii-san," Alphonse whispered, shaking with eyes full of tears. "Try to focus yourself, you'll lose consciousness nii-san. Can you give me any symptoms? What happened!" Alphonse disconnected the pipe and chain with a simple transmutation, and then became more insistent. "Colonel, move! I'll break him free!"

Above them, a loud explosion sounded, and bits of gravel crumbled down the walls and fell like pebbles into the mess they were in. "What was that!" Alphonse cried.

"It should be help," Roy said, fighting to keep it together. "They will find us, just give them a few minutes." Ed smelled like a wet and ripped orifice, and it was turning his stomach. "Ed! Listen to Alphonse!" Roy barked, lifting Ed's fly upward. Ed's pants were saturated so heavily peeling up the black blood-soaked leather was like peeling up skin, and that's how Ed responded.

Ed's body jolted with instinctive fight, shuddering with intense pain, and Ed sobbed a loud,

"Is it still attached?" His voice was hoarse, and in delirium, he was rubbing his face into Roy's calf. "Roy! Is it still attached!"

Roy was trying to rush himself, but his hands kept slowing, he kept faltering into a quiet stare of morbid absorption. Everything underneath the clothing on Ed's hips was a wet pulsing system. The sight of it made Roy dry heave, and in a tone he didn't recognize as himself, he choked out, "Ed, I need to put pressure on the wound."

"Oh fuck," Ed sobbed. "Don't touch it! Don't touch me!"

Ed's penis was not hard to find, it was where it was supposed to be, looking like an overcooked ziti in pasta sauce. Ed's pubic hair had turned into damp red moss, and all around it, the blood welled and collected in puddles. _It was impossible to see the source._ Roy worked Ed's pants back onto his thighs, and realized, he was going to have to touch.

Behind them came the sudden crunching of moving footsteps, and Roy flinched closer to Ed. He felt Alphonse grab at part of his legs, turning to stare into the room in panic Melander was returning.

"Alphonse! Erect a wall! Separate us from the room!" Roy ordered, stepping back with the leg not trapped in Ed's grasp, and beginning to frantically open the top of his uniform jacket.

"What about our aide!" Alphonse cried, moving to clear a space. While ripping buttons open Roy watched Alphonse's forearm sweep the major debris from between them, and begin a transmutation circle to keep them safe. Several bits of glass embedded in Alphonse's arm, but he seemed not to care, and Roy didn't comment. He dropped his heavy uniform jacket to the floor, and ripped his dress shirt open spraying buttons. _Vaguely, he recalled Ed doing the same that first night they were together in the car._

Crying, Ed lifted his hands to clap with a drunkard's slow and shaking coordination, but Roy stopped this. He leaned forward, nudging Ed's hands apart, and said, "No alchemy Ed! You don't have energy to waste!"_Everything needed to be focuses on life-sustaining efforts._

Roy pulled his dress shirt off, wadded it into a ball, and used it to wipe Ed's torso in one long pass. Most of the blood came free and further verified Ed's torso was not breached.

"Alphonse I am going to wipe the blood off his injury to see it!" Roy announced, licking his lips in preparation. His hand was shaking. Ed's body was a grotesque butchery, and he was terrified of further tearing and shredding Ed's tissue, or driving something sharp deeper into Ed's body. Until he cleared some of the blood, he wouldn't be able to assess the situation, and he imagined thin razor blades carving downward under the pressure of his wiping hand and slicing Ed like cheese cake.

Ed sobbed a sound of crazed protest when Roy declared his intensions, and began light squirming. Roy ignored this and looked to Alphonse who was still working on his transmutation circle. "Alphonse!" Roy cried, angry the boy hadn't stopped, before realizing he hadn't given directions to stop. "Hold Ed steady!"

Alphonse dropped his chalk without question, and latched himself to Ed's torso, before crying out a loud panicked, "Why!"

"I am cleaning his wound!"

"No!" Ed cried. "Don't touch me! _Don't _touch me!" Carefully, Roy set his dress shirt on Ed's blood splattered thigh and wiped downward. Ed's legs were jittering, and the fine cotton on split skin was agony. Ed's spine jerked him into reflexive spasms upon contact. "Fuck!" Ed howled. "You're tearing it off! You're ripping me open!" Roy was doing his best to keep his hand steady, and he plowed forward, trying to focus on his task and ignore Ed's pain. "Roy! You're cutting me!" His pristine dress shirt was turning into a soggy rag, and as the blood cleared, it became obvious, the wound was Ed's genitals. Ed screamed horribly when Roy dabbed at them, moving the blood until he was staring at a large cut behind, and beneath, Ed's testicles, starting to take them off.

"Colonel, please!" Alphonse cried, hugging Ed in fear and love. "Can you see it! Cauterize it!" Alphonse sounded like he was crying, but Roy didn't look to find out. He stared at Ed's open leaking body, and Ed's body stared back. The cut was a maroon spring, cratered in Ed's skin, bright with the fresh source, and continuously crying off in red threads. "Colonel!" Alphonse screamed, looking up at Roy's pale and transfixed expression. _Alphonse had not put things together. He wasn't envisioning Melander intentionally carving at Ed's body, he imagined the fanatical stabbing of a mad man. _"Did you find it!" Alphonse continued. "Did you find the cut! Was he stabbed!"

Roy licked his lips and muttered an emotionless, "Yes." He looked down at Alphonse's terrified expression, and the tears in the boy's eyes, and lied. "It's not deep. Ed will be fine." He had no idea if this were true, but Alphonse looked ready to bawl with joy. "Hold him steady, and I'll apply pressure to the wound." He redirected his words to Ed, and said, "Ed, I am going to apply pressure to the wound." Ed was shaking his head in raving furor. "Be strong," he said softly. "You will be fine." Roy began adjusting his shirt to a proper size.

"I am losing feeling in my legs," Ed cried, growing tired. The clench of his brow was growing faint, and a threatening peace was taking the fight in him. "I am getting cold."

"Cover his mouth Alphonse," Roy said, firming his voice to a comforting capable tone. "He's going into shock." Alphonse was white with fear, but gently covered Ed's mouth. Roy pressed his shirt to the back of Ed's balls, and Ed went berserk. He swung wildly, crying into Alphonse's palm for one final explosion that dwindled to a quiet ease. Ed's eyes rolled back in a dream, and his pain faded into a sun of warmth that lulled him to sleep.

"Ed, keep your eyes open," Roy ordered darkly. He looked at the puddle of Ed's blood on the floor, and it sat like a lake alongside Alphonse's white half drawn transmutation.

"Colonel," Alphonse said, choking tears down his face. His expression was twisted with impressive determination and anger. The gaze of his golden irises betrayed his strength, screaming and howling in anguish, but his body was composed. Alphonse was ready, still, even now. "Where is our backup!" He was furious. "Where is it!"

"Coming."

"I am going to kill you if he dies," Alphonse said, beginning to cry earnestly. In a detached way Roy found Alphonse's threats touching. Sobbing in silent terror, he added, "I will fucking kill Melander."

In something close to paralyzing fear and dread, Roy said flatly, "That is the first time I've heard you use the F-Word."

In his head he imagined armed soldiers charging into the empty doorway on the ground floor and flooding Ed's make-believe hall. They would kick in the doors to secure their perimeter. They would crash into the stairwell and elevator shaft, and a team would head directly to the vent as Hawkeye would direct. _You made it too small, _Roy thought, holding his shirt tight to Ed's bleeding body. It was the only flaw he could see to Ed's entire plan. The duct was too small, and the first soldier in would be careful, because it allowed for no evasive action, or strong defense. His weapon would be left behind, and he would have a flashlight and a knife. The rest of the men would stay back, looking into the hole, listening, and shouting communication. They would wait for their scout to secure the duct, verify the room with the missing floor, and then they would have to send for line to lower themselves in.

Hawkeye had not instructed them to a room without a floor, they would radio back to her, and she would urgently press them on. Her camera to Edward's room would be destroyed, and she would have no way of knowing what had destroyed it. She would order them to get rope, she would order another several other men to form new teams, and attempt to find the same room using incorrect blueprints, and halls designed like mazes in Edward's mind. It would seem obscure and dangerous, but overall, the mission would be successful. The outside of the building would be surrounded. Hawkeye would disclose nothing. She would say that the Flame Alchemist and Fullmetal Alchemist had located Melander inside the building. She would say Colonel Roy Mustang had ordered in troops, ordered an evacuation for the block, ordered an ambulance, and ordered shoot to kill. She would help fill in any gap she found to protect them, and if Melander was murdered, she would view it as an accomplishment. Dead, the man could neither hurt them with his actions or his words. They could say whatever they wanted, and she would start early, with vague references to their esteemed reconnaissance, intuition, and loyal service.

A slam came from above them, and Roy felt a smile when he heard footsteps he recognized. There were many, and they were state-issued, solid leather, double-insulated, steel-toed military boots. "That's our help," he said to Alphonse, before lifting his voice. "Lower level!" he called upward. "Send a medic! We need a medic! We need a stretcher!"

Relief felt like fresh air, and Roy turned to Alphonse, and broke a weary reassuring smile. There was the sound of stomping and shouting from the upper floors. Tactical flashlights were shinning down in bouncing illuminated globes. Next came standard issue rope, second a lit flare.

Alphonse had his blood coated fingers pressed to Ed's neck monitoring Ed's pulse, and he looked up to meet Roy's gaze with something of shock they had managed to scrape by, before sudden horror seized his expression. He jerked back, trying to separate himself from Roy without releasing Ed, and cried out, "Colonel!"

Roy had time only to recognize Alphonse's sudden behavior as odd and alarm bringing, when a hot searing pain shot through the back of his neck.

"Colonel!" Alphonse screamed.

Roy fell forward into Ed. His cheek impacted Ed's blood-smeared stomach, and as he sunk to his knees, it pushed into his lips and mouth. The world dimmed into a shrinking tunnel of darkness, and all he could smell was the copper of it. He didn't register Alphonse's screaming, his mind was shutting down with the smell and taste of death causing one final distorted image.

In a red forest of blood, Ed stood naked and smiling like a gruesome nymph. His face was relatively clean, but the rest was smeared and dripping too greatly for fine detail. His golden eyes were sharp fierce lights, and right before everything went black, through a cunning smile Ed whispered, "X marks the spot Colonel."

* * *

Go Review - Now

If you never review, if you hate to, if you think you're no good at it - **write a review.  
**This story/chapter was not easy or quick to write: please recognize that with a review. _  
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Chapter 17: _Three Liter Heart Attack_ will be posted next Friday 10/25/13.

The intensity of this story is not over.  
I promise.


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